


MatchMark

by Taupefox59



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Also canon-typical, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Magnus Bane, Brief Mentions of Suicide Ideation, Canon-Typical Self-Harm, Canon-Typical Violence, Declarations Of Love, Good Parent Maryse Lightwood, Happily Ever After, Hurt Alec Lightwood, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Husbands, Internalized Homophobia, Lightwood Family, M/M, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Magnus Bane is 'one soul at a time', Mention of possible one-sided Alec/Jace, Parabatai Bond, Parabatai Feels, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Ragnor Fell Lives, Shockingly Canon Compliant, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, alternate 3A
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-26 12:43:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 55,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15663471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taupefox59/pseuds/Taupefox59
Summary: Magnus has seen too many of his soulmates die. In a desperate attempt to protect himself and his future soulmates, Magnus banishes his own soulmark.It never occurs to Magnus that he might meet his match, even if they don’t have soulmarks to guide them.





	1. Scoutijn

**Author's Note:**

> SO MANY PEOPLE TO THANK!
> 
>  
> 
> Firstly, [Jillyfae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jillyfae/pseuds/jillyfae), who made me this [ FREAKING AWESOME mix](https://open.spotify.com/user/jillyfae/playlist/0ijGidb67Pu43Gjchaurru?si=tmR0A1zoTvqG3FE96Cwebw), which I had on repeat for days as I tried to hammer out the last bits of this fic. It's perfect.
> 
>  The INCREDIBLY talented [Kamz](http://kamzcaicedo.tumblr.com/) who made the absolutely *gorgeous* banner for this fic.
> 
> My beta sandalwoodsmalec, who put up with me backloading the crap out of this thing.
> 
> My wonderful, beauitful housemate [fantabulsticity](http://fantabulisticity.tumblr.com/) for letting me pester her with every grammar mistake known to dialogue at 3 in the morning. 
> 
> A shoutout to the Lemons. I mostly see you on twitter these days, but I'm so happy to know you all.
> 
> **ALSO**  
> I'm actually on twitter now, so if anyone is wanting to live-tweet this story, or chat about it on twitter, I'll be tracking #TaupeMMfic
> 
> So now, on to the story, and I hope you enjoy!

 

 

 

When he stepped off the ship, the last thing that Coppen van Haren expected was to find his soulmate. He had spent so much of his life hiding and running. Even his name - he had no family name, no mark left from his mother, because she had given him a Dutch name. She had hoped it would make his stepfather see him more favourably. Perhaps it had worked for a time, but in the end, it hadn’t made a difference.

Scoutijn was a perfect antithesis to hiding: bold, brash and utterly unapologetic. Perhaps part of it was the strength of werewolf blood that ran through him, but Coppen suspected that Scoutijn would be just as strong if he’d never been bitten.

Coppen was finding himself, still so far from understanding and mastering his own powers. He could control his power to some measure- it was his to call on, to turn on and off- but he hadn’t learned how to _direct_ it. Every time he would call on his magic, it was a raw rush of power. Coppen knew there had to be a better way. There had to be some way to call finesse into magic. He just had to find it.

Scoutijn was in a similar place. He had only been a wolf for a few short months when they met. Together, they went on a journey, learning who they were within their powers, who they were in the world of magic and secrets.

It had been just over a year. A year, when Coppen and Scoutijn had tried and failed, tried again, secure in love. There had been safety in knowing that whatever happened, they were together. They were allowed to fail, because there was always someone to help them back up. It had been a year of discovery and light.

  


~~~BELGRAD FOREST, 1615~~~

 

Coppen ran, never letting go of the hand in his. “Scoutijn, quickly, this way!” He cut through the forest, rushing down an embankment, knowing that they had to keep moving. They couldn’t slow down. If they could just get somewhere out of sight, just for a few moments, he knew that he would be able to throw up some kind of shield, do some kind of magic to keep them from being found.

His magic was unpredictable at best, but whenever he needed it, it always managed to do something.

It wasn’t always a good something, but he pushed that thought back. He couldn’t think about the past, not now. Not when the future could be cut short if he made a single wrong turn.

Whatever hell beast was chasing them was steadily gaining on them and they couldn’t afford to let themselves be caught.

“Coppen, wait.”

“We have to keep moving!” Coppen said, knowing that the desperation was obvious in his voice.

“We can fight this, Coppen.” Scoutijn said softly. His voice was steady and Coppen could feel the spark in him: the confidence. “Whatever it is, we can face it.” He pulled Coppen to a stop and then tugged his hand out of Coppen's hold. “Between the two of us, we can do this.”

Coppen stared at him. He wanted so much to believe. “I don’t know what it is. I don’t know how to fight it.”

He grinned back. “Then just keep me safe, and I’ll tear it apart.” He stepped away from Coppen and his eyes flashed with a brilliant emerald. The sound of cracking bones filled the air as Scoutijn began to shift into his werewolf form.

Coppen could only hope that this would go as well as Scoutijn thought it would.

Scoutijn charged, and Coppen followed after.

  
Coppen still wasn’t sure what the beast was. It had seven legs and skin that seemed to be made out of charred leather. Scoutijn leapt forward, and Coppen watched, rolling his shoulders and widening his stance. He didn’t trust his magic when it came to offense, but he was good at shields.

Scoutijn had managed to get his jaws around the creature’s neck. It was howling like ice and metal as it tried to shake him off, but he didn’t let go. Scoutijn managed to find purchase above one of the creature’s many legs, sinking his claws in deep and scrabbling up for a better position. He was wolf quick, but wolf stubborn as well, lit up with the fire of the fight. Finally managing to tear through the thing’s skin, blood started to flow down the creature’s body.

The blood was deep black and reflective, like nothing that Coppen had ever seen, almost like tar and diamonds.

The creature let out a shriek that felt like it rattled all the way through the world. It reached back with an arm, claws extended, but Coppen was faster, filling his chest and pushing _out_ , wrapping Scoutijn in a golden shield. The claws slid off Coppen's magic, and the beast screeched again.

It dropped to the ground and tried to roll, but Scoutijn was too fast. He leapt back, and as soon as the creature was on its back, the werewolf leapt for the soft skin of its belly. Claws slashing and teeth snapping, Scoutijn was able to tear into the thing. Black blood began to darken the forest floor.

With fresh confidence, Coppen stepped forward, calling forward the fire that always seemed to be living within him. It was nothing at all to draw that fire out. “Scoutijn, back!” He called, and his soulmate quickly dodged away. Coppen sent the fire forward, and the creature screamed.

The noise was what Coppen would imagine hearing if the world was ending: high-pitched, sounding like a thousand dying screams layered on top of each other, shredding whoever heard it. Coppen had a fleeting thought that perhaps the creature was some kind of hellish banshee, but then the beast was rolling back to its feet once more.

It staggered around before coming to some sort of balance. Coppen and Scoutijn shared a quick glance before the werewolf once more leapt into the fray.

    Battle wasn’t a common past-time for either of them, but it felt like they had fought together for centuries. There was an innate understanding that passed between them. Coppen knew when to pull back his shields to let Scoutijn attack, and Scoutijn knew how to weave between the blasts of magic that Coppen occasionally sent out. It was as if they had been built to balance each other, working not in tandem, but in perfect complement of each other.

Finally, they seemed to have turned the corner of the battle. The creature could barely attack as its legs began to give out. Its limbs were still twitching, but it was clear that whatever the beast was, it would soon be defeated.

Coppen looked at Scoutijn, smiling with triumphant euphoria.

Any feelings of victory were quickly erased when the sky above creature opened up, as if someone had punched a hole through existence.

    Coppen stared for a moment, before bringing his hands up and swirling them through the air. He didn’t know what could make a hole like that, but he definitely knew that he didn’t want to find out.

    The creature gave one last, shattering screech and a rain of fire poured out of the hole in the sky. Coppen shoved his hands forward, pushing a burning circle of magic towards the hole, twisting around and catching the flames that were pouring from the hole in the sky.

    A massive, crashing boom shook the area as the beast finally fell to the ground. Coppen lost his balance for a moment, but quickly managed to right himself. He threw another circle of magic at the hole in the sky, letting it spin directly in front so that anything that came through would immediately be caught.

Coppen took a moment to catch his breath and then turned to the creature. His heart stopped.

The creature was unmoving on the ground, but so was Scoutijn.

“No.” Coppen whispered, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. He glanced down at his left arm and saw the Soulmark that still curled from his wrist to up past his elbow. The mark was still there. He still had time. Coppen rushed to where Scoutijn was lying, with a horrific, bloody burn from his waist all the way down his right leg.

“Scoutijn, stay with me. I’m so sorry, stay with me.” Coppen raised his hands and held them over the burn, pouring raw energy into the wound. He had control over his magic, just no finesse. He could level buildings, burn people alive - he’d done it before, after all - but when it came to the delicate intricacies of putting someone back together? That was where Coppen got lost.

Coppen could feel the sweat breaking out along his brow, could feel the exhaustion tugging at his edges, but none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was saving his soul mate. They had only been together for a year. Coppen couldn’t lose him. They had hardly gotten to know each other, there was still so much to learn about life, about each other, about the world that they found themselves in.

Coppen wasn’t ready to never again see brown eyes glow green, or glimpse white teeth flashing as Scoutijn smiled. He wasn’t ready to never hear him laugh, or feel the soft touch of his hands in the grey glow of crepuscular light.

Coppen dumped raw power into Scoutijn’s body, eyes fixed to the ruined skin, blackened and burnt. Coppen didn’t know healing, but he could see the way new skin was starting to stretch over injury. Coppen didn’t know if he had enough power to heal Scoutijn, but he would burn himself out trying.

“Coppen.” His voice was soft and scratchy, and Coppen could barely hear it over the roar of magic. “Coppen, it’s okay.”

Coppen finally managed to pull himself out of his hyperfocus to meet Scoutijn’s eyes. He never stopped forcing his magic out.

“It’s okay.” Scoutijn said softly, “I’m going to be okay.”

“I know, I can fix this.” Coppen said, about to turn himself back to the wound Scoutijn’s leg.

“I’m a wolf, Coppen. It’ll take more than a little fire to take me down.” The pain was obvious in his voice, but so was the confidence.

Coppen managed to crack a weak smile. “I know you’ll be fine. Just let me do this, though, okay?”

Scoutijn reached forward and placed a hand on Coppen's shoulder. “I know. I will. I love you.”

Coppen finally paused for a moment, taking Scoutijn’s hand in his and leaning down to press a soft kiss to his mouth. “I love you too.” Coppen grinned as he pulled away. “Now hush so I can get you better.”

“I don’t take orders from you.” Scoutijn said, but he smiled and relaxed, letting his eyes close.

Coppen could feel the burn receding, feel the way that healthy tissue was starting to overtake the ruined char left behind from the other-wordly fire.

 

Coppen was so focused on healing, that it took him a moment to hear the unnatural roar as another hole opened up in the sky. Coppen didn’t have enough strength to pull them to safety. With whatever magic he had left, he tried to build a shield around them. It lasted for a few, short moments before shattering underneath the fire.

The fire was on them and Coppen knew a few short moments of pain beyond anything he had ever felt before, curling inside his chest and scraping out the inside of his bones. He distantly heard the screams of a werewolf in pain - of Scoutijn in pain - but there wasn’t anything that Coppen could do about it. Every part of him was fossilized in pain and terror. For a moment, he felt a shock, like Scoutijn was all around him, protecting him. For a split second, there was the all-consuming comfort of being held in Scoutijn’s arms, knowing that they were together and that nothing could ever take them away from each other.

The brief moment of comfort only made it worse when the tearing, tugging feeling started to rip at his soul. Coppen couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. It felt like every memory was being torn away, every stretch of his skin that had ever been touched by Scoutijn was being sliced off, pulled apart and shredded. It was as if the fire outside had somehow taken up residence within Coppen's chest, burning through any feeling of safety, comfort, love. It was like he had swallowed knives and then been dropped into acid. He could feel the soul-rending pain of his mark being dissolved from the skin of his arm. Where his Soulmark had been so proudly displayed, the colours were being sucked from the world, to leave everything in monochrome forever more.

 

Then, there was only pain, and Coppen sank into darkness.

  


 


	2. Magnus Filius

The sky was red and the air smelled of brimstone and the rotting iron tang of old blood. Coppen had barely opened his eyes, and he already knew that he was nowhere that he wanted to be. There was a scraped-out ache in his chest. It felt almost as though he’d somehow managed to crack every single one of his ribs. It was constricting and hollow at the same time. He felt like a piece of leather that had been stretched too thin, strung tight and ready to snap at any moment.

Coppen closed his eyes and focused on his body. He felt fine enough- aside from the feeling like he’d gotten his chest cracked open, he couldn’t feel anything wrong. There was the exhaustion and slight nausea that always came when he spent too much of his magic, but… he couldn’t remember.

Coppen let his hands drift to the ground, feeling the earth beneath his fingers. It was grainy and rough, a thin skittering of dust spread across and hard-packed mud flat.

Scoutijn was gone. Coppen knew that, could feel it with every breath. He wasn’t willing to look at his left arm yet, unwilling to face clear skin, when for so many years of his life, he’d found such comfort in the rich swirls of colour. Coppen could feel tears sting his eyes as he thought of it; the rich green swirls, spun with shimmering golds and bronze. The way the mark had begun at the base of his hand, a calm, grounding band of colour just above the bones of his wrist. It swirled up his arm, thin lines spiraling up to his elbow before they fanned out to huge, wide plumes that had covered the entirety of his upper arm.

His Soulmark had been delicate shapes hemmed in with rough edges. It had always looked like the colours had been the finest fabric that was hiding just beneath his skin. His mark looked like someone had torn away the brown of his skin to reveal emeralds and gold beneath it. Coppen had spent _so many years_ wondering what it had meant. The rich colours, the sweeping lines, all contained the rough, torn edges.

Then, Scoutijn had spun into his life. The first time that Coppen had seen the tawny gold-bronze fur of the werewolf, he had understood. His mark was Scoutijn tearing through his flimsy attempts to pass as normal. It had been learning to let his true eyes show, as they followed the thinnest threads of rumour to find out more about who they were, and the world of shadows that they lived in. It was Scoutijn tearing through the restrictions that Coppen had placed on himself out of fear.

Coppen let his thoughts drift to the corresponding mark that had taken up Scoutijn’s shoulder. It had been the heat-bright blue of flames from the hottest forges, the golden red of sunset after a storm. It had been the colours of Coppen's magic, spun together. Looking at it had felt like freedom and control at the same time. It had been the wild swirls of magic unleashed, hemmed in with the sharp angles of control and direction. Scoutijn’s mark had been all of the things that Coppen could never put into words, somehow translated into colour and spanning from the ball of Scoutijn’s shoulder, spinning down his arm, curling down his back and chest, ending just shy of his collarbone, with only the most delicate fringe of colour crawling up his neck.

 

All of it was gone now.

That was what Coppen knew.

 

What he didn’t know was what happened, or how he had ended up wherever he was. Coppen could only remember fear and darkness. As he lay there on the ground of some unknown place, he wasn’t sure if remembering would be worse. Scoutijn was gone, but Coppen didn’t know how, couldn’t remember what soul-shattering horror he must have felt when his Soulmark dissolved off his skin. He thought that he’d been there, had some nebulous feeling like he had been holding Scoutijn’s hand as the warmth of life had trickled away.

But Coppen didn’t know. And he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to want to remember.

 

Coppen gave himself a few minutes to stay where he was, let his grief overwhelm him. He could feel tears sliding out of the corners of his eyes to track down his face and drip into his hair. He cried until his chest started to seize, his body freezing as he tried to pull in the poison air of wherever he was.

He didn’t get to scream or wail his pain to the world. His grief was his own, and he wasn’t going to share it with the burned out ruin of a place that he had found himself in. Coppen scratched his fingers into the dry ground, focusing on trying to steady himself until he could at least breathe smoothly.

Coppen wasn’t sure how long it took, but eventually he opened his eyes again. The hazy sky was the same red as it had been before. He didn’t know where he was, but he would get no answers lying on the ground, frozen in grief.

He dragged his short nails into the ground one last time, letting the dull pain of it drag him back to himself. This is what he had to work with. He didn’t get to stop just because Scoutijn was gone, even if he might have wanted to. He’d known it would happen eventually. He was always going to have outlived his soulmate. He had just thought there would be more time…

Coppen pushed himself up and dusted himself off, for the first time catching sight of the painfully plain skin of his arm. It took everything he had to not fall back to the ground. He didn’t want this - he never had. All he’d wanted was time with his soulmate. They’d known each other for barely a year.

If there was one lesson he’d learned throughout his life, though, it was that what he wanted didn’t matter. All that mattered was what he had. He no longer had a soulmate, or any idea of where he was, but he could only fix one of those situations.

Coppen knew he would mourn Scoutijn for the rest of his life. He closed his eyes, shook his hands out, then picked a direction and started walking.

 

The landscape never changed. It was only flat, dry, grey for as far as Coppen could see. The sun never seemed to move; the sky stayed the same hazy red. Coppen was sure that he must have been walking for hours, and he had seen nothing. There was no life anywhere, no insects, no plants. The only thing that seemed to change was the long line of footprints that Coppen had left in the ashy sand that covered the ground.

He could feel fatigue setting in, creeping into his limbs with a lead-lined lethargy dragging down the swing of his fingers as he walked. He kept going, determined to believe that somehow, if he just kept walking, eventually something would change. Nothing could be truly endless. He just had to keep moving forward. Somehow, even though time didn’t seem to pass, and the scenery never changed, somehow he would cover enough ground to get to somewhere.

He had to believe it. He wouldn’t let himself think anything else.

Just as he wouldn’t let himself think of Scoutijn.

 

Eventually, Coppen truly could go no further, collapsing onto his knees in the grey dust. Black pulled at the edges of his vision, and Coppen gave himself over to it. Nothing had changed. He had reached nowhere. Scoutijn was gone. If this was Hell, Coppen would gladly give himself to death. His ears started to ring, and Coppen distantly felt grateful as he lost consciousness and fell to the ground.

 

The next thing Coppen was aware of was that the air still smelled of brimstone and blood. He was on a soft surface, though, and he couldn’t feel light through his eyelids. Every part of him hurt with the all-consuming pain of utter exhaustion. He hadn’t felt so worn down since he had first fought his step-father and had to go on the run.

 

Coppen let his eyes open slowly and he took in the room around him. The room was light enough that Coppen could clearly see into the corners of the room, but it seemed to be an ambient light. There were no candles anywhere, no fireplace either. It was bright enough to see clearly, but dim enough that Coppen would have wanted a candle to help with reading.

The entire place was a deep red edged with black, just as the world outside had been. Here, though, it was deep maroon sheets that felt like liquid against his skin. Coppen assumed there were windows behind curtains made of thick red and black brocade. The furniture was made out of ebony and upholstered in red velvet, accents were made of onyx and obsidian. There was a richness that Coppen had never seen before. He had seen the captain’s quarters of ships when he’d needed to flee from the islands of his home to the freedom of the mainland. Not even the finest of ships had anything that could rival the room he found himself in. Everything was the colour of royalty: sooty blacks, burnished gold, and the ever-present red that seemed to saturate the entire world that Coppen had found himself in. There was a door in the wall next to the bed, but Coppen knew he didn’t yet have the strength to stand and see what lay beyond.

Coppen moved slowly as he sat up in the bed. His muscles ached from exertion, and his tongue stuck to the roof his mouth, but he was otherwise fine. He wasn’t in chains and he had no injuries. It took most of his strength to sit up, and he found himself leaning heavily against the headboard of the bed, trying to catch his breath. The air was dry enough that Coppen could feel it on the inside of his chest with every inhalation.

He had just let his eyes close when he heard footsteps enter the room. Coppen twisted quickly, his eyes flying open at the sound. The man who stood in the door held himself tall, holding a black cane with an intricately carved head. He was wearing black silk that seemed to have an equally black pattern embroidered on it. He was wearing a stole of fur, but Coppen didn’t know what kind of animal the skin had come from.

“I see you’re awake.” His voice was low and smoky, but he looked satisfied to see Coppen up.

“Where am I?”

“You’re in my house, of course.” The man said with a smile, gesturing to the room.

Coppen frowned. He had so many questions, he wasn’t sure where to start. Remembered pain flashed through him like a whip-crack, and suddenly Coppen knew exactly what he needed to know first. “What happened to Scoutijn?”

The man frowned. “Who?”

“My -” Coppen choked, as he realized again, that his time with Scoutijn would forever be in past-tense. There was no more time of them together, no more hope for a future. Now and forever more, there would just be him, scrambling to hold onto the scraps of what once was. Coppen clenched his teeth and rode out the wave of grief, refusing to let tears come to his eyes. “My soulmate. What happened to him?”

The man looked confused. “You were alone when I found you.” He stepped forward slowly, reaching a hand out to rest gently on Coppen's shoulder. “I do apologize for that, by the way. I am usually much better about welcoming my guests. Unfortunately I had a terribly time-sensitive matter I had to take care of.”

Coppen stared. “What?”

“You had been walking when I found you. For that, I am deeply sorry. I should have been there for you as soon as you set foot in my realm. I hope that you do not take it as a sign that I do not want you here. I promise, I have wanted nothing more for some time. I just did not think that you would actually be arriving so soon.”

The man’s hand was warm and comforting against Coppen's bare shoulder, and it was hard to fight the temptation of serenity that seemed to emanate from the man’s touch. Regardless, Coppen rolled his shoulder, shaking the man off. “I don’t even know who you are.”

The man pulled his hand away and looked hurt. “I suppose you wouldn’t. I am sorry for that, too. For so long I have wanted nothing more than to meet you.” He paused. “Though I hear that you have been using the name ‘Coppen’, which simply will not do.”

“My mother gave me that name.” Coppen spat defensively.

“No. Fear gave you that name, and your Mother was a strong, beautiful woman when I knew her. However, names are gifts, and at times gifts can become more hindrance than help. You have far outlived any use of ‘ _Coppen.’_ ”

“What are you talking about?” Coppen could feel the worry starting to pool in the pit of his stomach.

“Now that you are here, you will need a name befitting of your potential.” The man said, casually dismissing Coppen’s distress.

“How do you know who I am?”

The man gave him an assessing look. “My dear boy, of course I know who you are. You’re my son.”

“No,” Coppen recoiled, “no, that’s not possible. My father - my father is a _monster_.”

“I am not.” The man said smoothly, almost looking sad. “Though I can see why people would call me such.” He didn’t reach for Coppen again, but he did step forward, turning so he could more easily look Coppen in the eyes.

Cat eyes. Golden, flecked with bronze, slit pupil wide in the low light of the room. The same eyes that Coppen had seen staring back at himself through a rippling reflection on all of his worst days. The eyes that marked him as something other than human. Eyes like Coppen had never seen on anyone else.

“My name is Asmodeus,” he said softly, “and I know what it is to be hunted. I know what it is to have everything you love torn away from you.” He turned to look at the curtains on the wall, clearly seeing something beyond the walls. “I once lived in a place very different from this. I was with my friends, my brothers. I loved them, my son, just as I love you.” He turned back to Coppen, and his eyes turned hard, flashing gold. “They cast me out for daring to live differently. I began to ask questions they did not want to answer, and exile was their answer for me.”

Coppen could feel the grief starting to creep up on him again as the man - Asmodeus - his _father?_ \- continued to speak. There was something about his story that rang through Coppen like a bell. He had been running his entire life: spent so many of his years trying to hide simply because of things he couldn’t control. He had never asked to be marked so clearly as being _other_ , but he could feel that Asmodeus understood.

Coppen hadn’t even realized that he had reached out until Asmodeus had taken his hand. “My dear boy, I had so hoped that we would meet under different circumstances. I would have shown you the world above, instead of this land.”

“What is this place?” Coppen finally asked.

“This is Edom, my dear boy, and the land that I rule. The land that I would have you rule with me, my son.” He paused and once again stared straight into Coppen’s eyes. “Magnus.” He said slowly. “You are to be the greatest of my children. _Magnus Filius._ The greatest son.”

It was so much - far more than Coppen could process. His entire being was still aching from the places where Scoutijn had been torn away; the ragged edges of his heart were yearning for anything at all that could dull the pain. Here was Asmodeus, _his father_ , trying to give him a new name and asking him to stay. Giving him a chance to make a new life as someone new, as if he even had anywhere else to go. Coppen took a deep breath of hot, dry air, trying to clear his thoughts enough to make any sense of anything.

Asmodeus suddenly pulled his hand away from Coppen, looking endlessly disappointed. “I suppose I should let you rest.”

“No! Wait!” There was so much that he didn’t understand, but he did know the last thing he wanted was to be alone. Scoutijn was gone, and everything he had ever known had been ripped away. If Asmodeus wanted to be there, he would hardly deny the man - _his father?_ “Please stay.” He could hear the way his voice nearly broke, soft and weak in the stillness of the room. It didn’t matter. “I - I like the name Magnus.”

There was a look of joy on Asmodeus’ face as he smiled and for the first time ever, Coppen saw those familiar cat-eyes reflecting warmth.

“Then Magnus you shall be.” Asmodeus reached up and ran a hand through Coppen’s hair. “I will stay as long as you will have me, my dear Magnus. Perhaps some more sleep would do you good, though?”

He couldn’t deny the exhaustion that was pulling at him, but there were more important things. “No, I want to know more.”

Asmodeus simply smiled at him, as if he were indulging a willful puppy. “There will be time enough for questions when you are ready.” Asmodeus ran the back of his hand along Magnus’ brow, and Coppen - _‘Magnus’_ , he thought, _‘I can get used to Magnus.’ -_ he could feel his eyes growing heavy as sleep began to pull him under.

“Lie down, my son. My _Magnus_.” Asmodeus said, and Magnus let his father help him settle back into the bed.

Magnus knew there were things that he wanted to say, things he wanted to ask and needed to know, but they all slipped away as darkness came and he was claimed by sleep.

 

~~~ SOME TIME LATER~~

 

Magnus rolled his wrists, stretching out his fingers before curling them back in to make fists. He grinned as he turned to his father. “How was that?”

Asmodeus smiled back, looking pleased and proud. “Very well done!” He leaned back in his chair and let his hands curl around the head of his cane. “You’re getting much better with accuracy.”

Magnus took a deep breath and focused back in at the rat-sized creature that he could see scurrying away. He could feel the way that his power flowed through him, raw and unbound, waiting to be unleashed. He brought his hands up, curling his fingers, shaping the endless heat that was waiting to be summoned. He let his arms begin to spin, setting a course for where he wanted his magic to go, showing it how he wanted it to weave itself into existence. With a surge, he lunged forward, and let his magic twist outward: a rippling cord of fire, spinning through waves of gold to crash down as a cage around whatever demonic creature thought it would be lucky enough to escape with its life.

“Remember to move with _intention_ , Magnus.” Asmodeus said from his chair.

Magnus nodded, even as he kept his attention focused on the cage he’d made with his magic. Once again spinning his hands, he sent tendrils of the cage into the ground until it completely encircled the demon. Crushing his hand into a fist and then drawing it back towards his chest, Magnus was able to send the cage and the demon flying through the air to land delicately at his father’s feet.

The demon creature was shrieking in an ear-splitting pitch, but with a flick of his fingers, Asmodeus silenced it. He stood from the chair, smiling wide. “I am more proud of you every day, Magnus. You will achieve such great things.” He stepped forward and pulled Magnus into a hug. They held onto each other for a long moment, reveling in the shared joy of success.

Magnus knew that he still knew barely a fraction of what Asmodeus had to teach him, but he’d still learned enough that he’d begun to experiment with building his own spells, working with more complex magic.

Asmodeus had taught Magnus to read, teaching him the hard angles that made up runic scripts and cuneiform. They had spent long stretches of time as Asmodeus patiently burnt symbols into blank slates, teaching Magnus the structure of latin and greek. The King of Edom had pulled water out of the parched ground so that Magnus could learn the many styles of sweeping brush strokes used to record knowledge across ever-growing stretches of Asia. Magnus learned the glyphs of Egyptians and the Mayans and Zapotec. Asmodeus had even introduced Magnus to Enochian. Other times, Asmodeus would have Magnus sit and listen to the wind. Edom was dead in every way, but Asmodeus taught Magnus that no matter where he was, he could still hear the echoes of the language of birds.

Asmodeus explained that words were details and flavours of magic. Spells built from words were far more powerful, but only if they came from a strong foundation. Words were the spice of the dish. If one didn’t know how to control the heat of the flame, there was no point in seasoning something that would only end up as charcoal.

Magnus was learning everything he could, pouring through the endless scrolls and delicate skins and the slowly-growing volumes of books in his father’s study, every day looking forward to whatever training Asmodeus would set for him.

Eventually there came a time when Magnus could tell that something had shifted. The challenges that Asmodeus set were no longer obstacles to be overcome. Instead of feeling like every challenge was a new mountain to climb, Magnus found himself facing each day with confidence and self-assurance. Training with Asmodeus felt more like the comfort of a thorough stretch, rather than the challenge of conquering something new. Conversations had strayed from the structure of Magnus asking questions and Asmodeus teaching, to instead become equal discussions philosophizing over the theoretics of different magical properties.

Magnus had never felt more at home, or more steady in himself and his magic.

 

There were still nights when Magnus would wake up in a cold sweat, his hands still lingering with the sense-memory of what it felt to hold Scoutijn for his last breath. There were also the nights when Magnus woke up in a hot sweat, dreaming of Scoutijn in a very different scenario, and Magnus honestly wasn’t sure which was worse. He treated them both the same, though. He would walk to the cabinet where he held his ever-growing collection of potions, and he would pull the memory from his mind when it was still as fresh as it could be. He would carefully feed it into a bottle, storing the memory away, so that he could look on it later and it would still be as crisp. He was working to crystalize as many moments with his soulmate as he could. They had gotten so little time together. Magnus refused to allow a time in his life when he would no longer remember the exact shade of Soutijn’s eyes when they would flare green, or the way that Scoutijn would laugh so hard he had to grab Magnus’ shoulder to stay standing upright.

Magnus would easily admit that these memories were the most precious thing that he had in his life. He loved living with his father and learning his own potential. He loved the pride and support he found from Asmodeus as he learned to unlock his own magic, but Magnus could never deny the ache that still existed.

At times, Magnus believed that perhaps it would have been easier if they had been able to have more time together. Most of the time, Magnus was certain that any amount of time could never have been enough, let alone the brief handful of months that they’d gotten.

Alone in the face of unknown millenia, Magnus did everything he could to hold on to those brief flashes of beauty that had made up his time with his soulmate.

 

Magnus didn’t truly know how long he had spent in Edom, learning under his father. There were times when it felt like a few short weeks, and other times when Magnus had a sneaking suspicion he’d been there for closer to years. Time moved differently in Edom, and neither he nor Asmodeus were entirely certain of how that translated into the world of humans.

Magnus knew, of course, that in all probability that he would eventually find another soulmate - it wasn’t particularly common in mortals, but it was hardly unheard of. Magnus could only assume that in time, he would find himself with another match. That was, after all, the way of Soulmarks. Sometimes they would be static for a person’s entire life. Sometimes, a day would pass that would feel completely ordinary, only for a person to look and see their mark had changed in its entirety. More commonly, a mark would change to reflect the bearer’s life.

Magnus hadn’t had a mark when his mother had died, but he knew that if he had it would have completely changed that night. Instead, he’d gotten his mark when he’d first managed to make his way onto a ship north from the Dutch East Indies. It had changed often enough at first, as he’d snuck his way onto ships and hidden away in caravans, using his raw, untrained magic to make people look the other way. It had altered when Magnus had realized that he could use illusion to trick his way into money. His mark had transformed again when he learned how to disguise his magic, sell his services as a healer and a craftsman.

It was with that mark that he’d met Scoutijn. A werewolf, and another soul running from the Dutch colonies to try and find a different life, away from Christian missionaries intent on spreading tales of magic being a mark of the devil. On their worst nights, Magnus and Scoutijn had both thought maybe there was truth to that, but in the light of day, and the love of each other, those were the doubts and fears that were easy to wash away.

When they had met, their marks had changed again, colours and patterns altering to reflect that they had met each other. From then on, their marks had shifted in tandem. The first time they had kissed, vibrant colours had bloomed from the experience. The first time that they had found themselves fleeing in the dead of night, in fear for their lives, they had both found new darkness shading familiar colours.

That was the true beauty of Soulmarks. As long as people continued to grow together, their marks would reflect that. If ever one was to stray, to begin living life on their own, their mark would start to shift independently. When people stopped desiring a connection, their marks could even eventually shift to the point of incompatibility.

There was nothing more shameful than soulmates splitting because of shifting marks. Magnus couldn’t comprehend what it would be like. He could only think of his time with Scoutijn, how he had felt invincible, bolstered and emboldened by the bright and brilliant man at his side. There had been the flash and spark of physical attraction, but there had been the warm, banked fire of friendship. Magnus had felt safe. He had felt supported, but also needed - allowed the opportunities to stand tall when his soulmate was stumbling. Together they had gone farther than they ever could have alone. Magnus knew that together they had faced down things he would have found impossible on his own.

That was what a soulmate meant to Magnus: a partner, a companion. A person that he could share his life with, both when he needed strength and when he could give it. It was just as much about sharing joys as sorrows. Magnus felt like he’d had that connection for the scantest breath before it had been torn from him. Magnus was certain that eventually, another Soulmark would appear. He wasn’t looking for one, though. He knew in his heart that he was still mourning. A Soulmark would appear again when he was ready.

 

There were no days in Edom, but Asmodeus found amusement in marking the time with an intricate human clock, letting rods and teeth click away, demarking arbitrary if equal lengths to somehow come up with a day.

The clock was striking four, and Magnus was reading. It was a recreation of an Izapan tablet that Asmodeus had only recently summoned, the glyphs shifting with a simple push of magic whenever Magnus had reached the end of the visible passage. The record was explaining the way that ley lines and fey magic could be symbiotic or parasitic depending on the landscape and the power dynamics between the Seelie and Unseelie courts. Magnus was usually encouraged to read as much as he desired, so the last thing he was expecting was for his father to walk in and interrupt.

“My son, I would speak with you.”

Magnus immediately set down the stone tablet. “What is it?”

Asmodeus held out a glass that was filled with an almost iridescent emerald liquid. “Drink with me.”

Magnus stood and took the glass with a smile. “Is there an occasion?”

Asmodeus was silent for a while, simply meeting Magnus’ gaze. “I believe there may well be.” With a swirl of his hand and a flick of fingers, Asmodeus summoned two of the velvet and ebony chairs that he favoured. He motioned for Magnus to sit, then snapped his fingers, summoning himself a drink. “As you know, I am the ruler of this realm.”

“Of course, father.” Magnus said with a nod, clearly confused as to where the conversation was going.

“Whenever there is leadership, there will always be those who… disagree.” Asmodeus said slowly, lifting his own glass to his lips, and slowly taking a sip of the vibrant purple liquid within it.

Magnus took a drink from his own glass, letting Asmodeus take his time.

“There are those who would wish to have my power here.” Asmodeus finally said.

Magnus frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Asmodeus smiled and shook his head. “My dear boy, what is there to understand?”

“I have been here for some time.” Magnus said. “We are the only two I have seen as long as I have been here. Who is there to take anything?”

“I may be the King of Edom, but there is also a Queen, my boy.”

Magnus set his glass down in shock. “A Queen? You - do you have-”

“Oh no.” Asmodeus cut him off quickly. “No, there is no bond between Lilith and I. There is nothing at all between us except for the fact that we have both been banished to live here, and the fact that I have what she most desperately wants and will never be able to achieve.”

“What do you mean?”

“She wants to have a family, my child. I have found you, and you, my son, stand by my side. I am afraid that it has made her desperately jealous.” Asmodeus smiled, reaching out to place his hand against Magnus’ neck, letting a warm happiness flow between them. “If she is indeed foolish enough to attack, I would have you stand with me.”

Magnus put his hand on his father’s arm and met his eyes steadily. “What do we have to do?”

“You would accept my offer to the heir to my kingdom?”

“I am your son.” Magnus said without hesitation. “I didn’t have anything without you.”

Asmodeus grinned, and there was something dark that flashed through his eyes. Magnus could feel it too; the thrill of the hunt. It was the promise of challenge and the satisfaction that came from defeating a worthy opponent.

“I have never been more proud of anyone, Son.” Asmodeus said, once again meeting Magnus’ eyes, before he leaned back into his chair and picked his glass back up. “She will not come herself. Her armies will march, but she does not lead from the front lines. She will stay where she is safe and send her legions on their own.” He raised his glass as if to toast their good fortune. “We will meet them and leave her nothing but dust to show for her troubles.”

Magnus copied the movement, drinking deeply from his cup. There was something about the drink, but Magnus couldn’t place it. It tasted like mineral-laden air of a forest and the cool, refreshing rush of leaping into the sea. It tasted like love and fear and excitement. It tasted familIar, but Magnus didn’t know how.

“Whatever she sends, we will be ready for her.” Asmodeus said. “I will not let her take you from me.”

Magnus could feel the truth in his father’s words and he let the feeling of security wash over him. Magnus knew that he still had much to learn, but if he was to stand beside his father, he had no doubt that they could withstand any force that would try them. He took another sip of the green drink in his glass and let himself be pulled away into the rush of feeling that accompanied it.

 

When Magnus next found himself asleep, his dreams were nothing like he had ever experienced before. He was in the forest where he had lost Scoutijn.

   

 

It was a sight that Magnus could never forget, even if he wanted to. It was the heavy scent of damp earth and trees, and Magnus couldn’t get it out of his nose. He would never ever be able to forget. The sun was bright, but only managed to cast dappled patches of light through the leaves. It was almost beautiful. It was the last place that Magnus ever wanted to be.

The first time he’d been down this path, it had been light and hope and love. There had been a future spreading before him; there had been acceptance and companionship.

Now there was only grief.

Magnus could never forget. He could pretend it had never happened, though, when he kept himself too busy to remember. He could throw himself into lessons with his father, let himself sink into the feelings of family that he had been searching for his entire life.

There was the look on Asmodeus' face when Magnus had achieved success. It wasn’t the same feeling of freedom, of an expansive elation that had come so easily when Magnus had been with Scoutijn. It was enough, though.

Magnus could pretend that it was enough.

   

The forest was unchanging as Magnus looked around, every direction looking exactly the same. He was alone, and he wanted nothing more than to be anywhere else. The only way out was to start walking, though, so Magnus simply picked a direction and started moving.

He had no idea how long he had been walking. With every step, his feet crunched in the fallen leaves that made up the undergrowth of the forest. He could see the new trees come into view as he walked, but every time he looked around he was in the exact same clearing.

Unease spread across the back of his neck and began to seep into his shoulders. Magnus wanted to be _out of that forest_.

He spun around and tried walking in the other direction only to end up still in the same place. He began to run as his desperation mounted, and it didn’t matter. Magnus found himself gasping for breath. He felt like a spike had been shoved into his side and his body was protesting, but nothing he did had any affect.

He was trapped in the same clearing.

With a sob, Magnus fell to his knees. He didn’t want to be there. He would rather be _anywhere else_. He would rather face his stepfather again than have to be trapped at the scene of his greatest failure.

Magnus knew it was his fault that his soulmate was dead. If he had been stronger, if he had been better at controlling his magic, they could have made it. If he had just been more aware…

But he wasn’t. And Scoutijn was dead.

Magnus closed his eyes and let the grief sweep over him. He couldn’t breathe. He could feel the tears running down his face, the saliva sliding out of his open mouth as he tried to gather enough air to scream his pain into the hateful forest he found himself trapped in.

 

Magnus froze when he felt a warm hand in the center of his back.

“Hush, my love. It was never your fault.”

Magnus closed his eyes tighter and curled in on himself. He couldn’t take this. It was one thing to be forced back to the forest. He couldn’t face Scoutijn. Magnus reached towards his own shoulders, curling his fingers into the fabric of his shirtsleeves, trying to focus on anything other than where he was. The fabric was cheap, a rough weave that he could feel against his fingertips, but it was well-made and could withstand any pressure that Magnus could put on it.

None of it got him away from the warm, solid presence of Scoutijn, the steady stream of calm words, and the feeling of kind, loving touch.

Magnus couldn’t get away. It was too much. “What do you want?” He finally managed to push words through his tears. He could feel himself shaking from the desperation.

“I want you to be happy, my love.” It was Scoutijn’s voice, as it always had been: smoky, rough and warm.

“Why?” It was the only thought circling through Magnus’ mind. There was the sound of rustling cloth and Magnus could feel arms sliding around him, Scoutijn beside him, pulling him in close, cradling Magnus in warmth and comfort. It was everything that Magnus wanted and nothing that he deserved.

“This will be my only chance to speak with you again.” Scoutijn finally said, softly. “Please listen.”

“I don’t understand.” Magnus said, slowly managing to get his breathing under control. He wiped his face with shaking hands, opening his eyes slowly to turn to his match, his soulmate.

“There you are.” Scoutijn said, running his thumb along the line of Magnus’ jaw. “I love you so much more than I could ever say.”

“How?” Magnus said, fighting to keep his voice steady. “It’s - it’s my fault you’re gone.”

Scoutijn just shook his head. “It could never be. Magnus, do you remember what happened at the end of that fight?”

"No.” Magnus admitted.

"You know why.” Scoutijn prompted.

“No.” Magnus repeated, stubbornly.

“You passed out. You had nothing left. You gave everything that you possibly could have.”

“And if I had been better-”

“No, Magnus. It wouldn’t have made a difference.”

“You don’t know that!” Magnus cried, pulling back.

“I do.” Scoutijn said calmly. “If you had been stronger or had more training, or any of the things that you think you could have changed, none of it would have mattered.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Magnus, I need you to hear me.” Scoutijn said, looking at Magnus seriously. “The beast that killed me was part of an attack, and it was an attack _for you_.”

“I wasn’t hurt. How could it have been an attack on me?”

“It was an attack _for_ you, not to hurt your body, but to defeat your soul.” Scoutijn said. “You see yourself now and you would tell me you were not hurt?”

Magnus could only stare, uncomprehending.

“If you remember nothing else, _you must remember this_ .” Scoutijn said, his eyes flashing emerald. “Magnus. There are those who will value power over love. There are those who believe that having power _is_ love. For you, _love is power_. You find your strength in beauty, and that is a truly rare thing.

“There are those who would take that from you, and you _must not let them take it_.

You will face those who would have you for their own, and you must not let them take your love from you.” Scoutijn paused. “Do you understand?”

Magnus frowned, “No. I don’t understand. But I will remember, I promise.”

“I know you will, my love.” Scoutijn smiled, but the edges of it were tinged with melancholy. “This will be the last time I see you. Kiss me one last time?”

Magnus lunged, curling himself into Scoutijn’s hold and pressing their mouths together. It felt like being able to breathe clearly for the first time in years. They sank into each other, letting hands follow familiar paths, as they let their souls twine together. For those brief, precious moments, when Magnus looked at his arm, it was once again decorated with the emerald swirls that had flourished, matching the copper and blue that stained Scoutijn’s skin.

In the tenuous phantasm of a dream, they were in love and together once more.

   

 

Magnus woke up, and he could still smell the forest and feel the warmth of Scoutijn’s body against his.

He was frozen for a long moment, keeping his eyes closed, as though that would keep the endless scent of brimstone from washing away the lingering memories. It had felt so real - _so real_. If Magnus could just hold on for a even a bit more time…

But the red of Edom’s sky was present even when Magnus closed his eyes to it. The warmth from the dream faded, leaving Magnus alone in his crimson sheets of the finest fabric. Magnus could feel the sting of tears threatening, but he pushed them back.

Tears would not help him.

Magnus stood from the bed and walked to the jars he held his memories in. “Do not let anyone take your love from you.” He murmured to himself. He paused for a moment, contemplating storing it with the rest of his precious memories of their time together. That wasn’t what Scoutijn had asked for, though. “I won’t forget, Scoutijn. I promise.” Magnus vowed, pressing a kiss to the stopper of the bottle before he turned away.

He had a war to prepare for.

 

It was something of a shock to Magnus, how easy it was to destroy an army of demons. He stood with his father, the two of them facing down the marching hoards sent by Lilith. There had been a single shock of fear that Magnus had felt when he had first seen the way that the army trailed like a river, a flowing, undulating line that stretched beyond the horizon. Then he felt Asmodeus’ hand on his shoulder, and heard the calm, steady voice of his father.

“They are nothing to us, my son. Remember that. These are mindless beasts, and their master is not here.”

“There are so many.” Magnus said softly, not taking his eyes from the ever-approaching mass.

“It is nothing more than intimidation. Each of these creatures is nothing but a speck of dust. We will blow them away with a single breath. They are nothing more than dust to be swept from our doorstep.”

Magnus could feel the strength of his father, could hear the truth of his words.

“With me, my son. Remember, _move_ with _intention_.”

It was nothing to wipe the entire army out of existence. Magic flared between the two of them, drawn from blood and from the very land itself. Arcs of blue fire cut through the red sky and cascaded across Lilith's army.

Magnus wasn’t sure how much time had passed, simply falling into the swirl and sway of magic. He could feel the paths being created by his father, and it was practically instinct to follow. Magnus could hear the rush of it, could feel the way that his limbs were drawn into currents, feeling and shaping the flow of power. He sank into it, until the motion no longer felt like steps to be learned but instead like a language he had spoken for his entire life. It was suddenly so very easy to feel how he needed to twist and shift in order to create the results he wanted to see. His magic felt like a dance, and Magnus had forgotten that his body already knew the steps, even if his mind had forgotten.

It was so, so easy for Magnus to simply let himself sink into it, until all he knew was motion and magic.

The silence that followed the battle was more of a jolt than anything else. It had been on the tip of Magnus’ fingers to continue, only to realize that there were no targets left. Magnus felt like he had to rise out of a trance, slowly swimming to the surface to once again be faced with the raw edges of reality. What he was faced with made it more than worth it.

Asmodeus turned to Magnus, smiling, exuding pride. “You have come so far, Magnus. You have learned well.” He had pulled his son into a hug, letting the contact linger, before he spoke softly, “Now, you are truly ready to hold the title of heir to my kingdom.”

Magnus had never felt more accomplished.

 

Even though the battle had left Magnus sweating and out of breath, somehow destroying an entire army had felt popping a joint back into place. For the first time, Magnus could feel his power thrumming within him as he stood. It wasn’t something he needed to focus on or find, but it didn’t feel like it would rise up to overwhelm him either.

Magnus felt like his power was trained. It was there, at the ready, waiting to be shaped and called into being as he would will it. He could feel it filling his skin, but it wasn’t pushing to get out. It was simply waiting until Magnus chose to call it forward. Magnus felt like he’d managed to shake off the lethargy of a hibernation he hadn’t even realized he’d been in, somehow shaking his magic out from where it had been held dormant. It was like Magnus had a never taken a full breath before in his life.

Magnus could only smile back, feeling like for the first time, he was standing tall as everything that he could be.

 

Magnus was sitting in his father’s study after the battle, bouncing sparks between his fingers when Asmodeus walked in, once again carrying two glasses.

“A toast to our success.” Asmodeus explained, handing one of the glasses to Magnus. The liquid in the glass was a deep, shimmering purple. It almost looked viscous, but when Magnus swirled the glass, the drink splashed like it may as well have been water.

Asmodeus raised his glass, “To your first battle.”

Magnus raised his glass in kind, before taking a long sip. The drink tasted bright, like sweet-sharp of fruit that wasn’t quite ripe, paired with the refreshing bite of salt after a long day in the sun. Underneath it all was a flavour like challenge and joy, the spark of banter and teasing. The drink tasted like becoming and being. Magnus let it sit in his mouth for a long moment before finally swallowing.

“What is this?” Magnus asked, glancing between his glass and his father with curiosity clear in his gaze.

Asmodeus simply raised an eyebrow. “It is a drink that could only be made for you, my dear Magnus.”

It was a response that provided no answer whatsoever to Magnus’ question, but he could tell that Asmodeus would tell him no more, even if he pushed, so Magnus took another sip of the drink and forced himself to let it go.

Whatever the drink was, it was absolutely transporting. Every drop of it tasted like experiences that were just beyond the reach of his fingertips. It was both intoxicating and utterly too much. It felt like it could have been completely addicting, except for the part where Magnus could feel that it wasn’t at all.

It tasted like love from behind armour: the kind that took patience and a keen eye to slip between the cracks of fortification, but the reward on the other side was more worth it than a completed quest to infinity.

Magnus could feel the rush of it through his veins, like it was burning out dust that accumulated in his joints when he wasn’t watching.

Magnus let the flavour linger on his tongue, then turned to his father and raised his glass. “To defeating Lilith.”

Magnus couldn’t decipher the smile that Asmodeus had on his face, but the King of Edom raised his glass anyway.

“To the reign of Asmodeus, and his most beloved son, Magnus Filius.”

Magnus accepted the toast. It seemed like no time and yet forever that they sat together, until their drinks were gone.

 

That night, Magnus had dreams that felt like visions. A beautiful seelie, who had no desire to care about silly human denotations of gender. Magnus could see flashes of delicate tattoos vining across their arms, down ribs and across hips. He could feel the press of their mouth against his and the delicate rhythm of practiced hands weaving flowers into his hair.

There were sounds of sparkling laughter and the playful sting that came from a challenge of wills.

The dream felt like endless nights that somehow spanned decades, the sigh of resolution, and the fresh crack of thunder.

 

When Magnus woke up, there were tears on his face, and his heart echoed with sharp, all-encompassing sense of loss. He had no idea how long he spent crying, let alone why. The next day, he felt off-balance and sore, like he had somehow been filled too full and was pushed beyond bursting. Magnus never mentioned it to Asmodeus - after all, they had only just celebrated a victory. There was no reason that Magnus should be feeling like his heart was a frayed piece of rope with every thread being set on fire all at once.

  


~~~SOME TIME LATER~~~

  


It was the last thing that Magnus expected, the morning that he woke up, and there were thick lines swirling across his palms, spanning from a fiery orange to the bright green of new buds in spring, to the endless blue of the ocean and the delicate purple found on the inside of seashells. The Soulmark spun along his fingers and curled up his wrists, and seeing it felt like being shattered and reborn at the same time.

Magnus had tried so hard not to think of what it would be like to grow into a new Soulmark, not after his time with Scoutijn had been ended so traumatically. Spending his time in Edom, Magnus had wondered if he would even get a new Soulmark. He was, after all, in a different realm. It was reasonable enough that he would be able to stay with his father, and keep his skin clear of Soulmarks for as long as he wished. Asmodeus had never stated explicitly that he didn’t have soulmates, but Soulmarks were often difficult to hide, and Magnus had never seen any evidence that Asmodeus had any kind of mark.

Not having a Soulmark could have been from Asmodeus not being human, but it seemed equally likely to Magnus that it was a consequence of life in Edom.

Now that he had one, though, Magnus knew that Edom wasn’t enough to stop the power of Soulmarks. Apparently, somewhere in another world, there was someone that would match his soul. Magnus knew he would stop at nothing to find them. He could only hope that his father would understand.

 

Asmodeus was lounging in front of one of the eternally-burning fires that he had built a fireplace around when Magnus found him.

“Father?”

Asmodeus turned from the flames with a smile, only for his face to drop as soon as he saw the colours swirling across Magnus’ hands. “You have a mark.”

“Yes, father, I would like-”

“You wish to find them.” Asmodeus’ voice was flat and completely devoid of inflection.

Magnus could feel cold sliding up the back of his chest. “I - I want to come back,” he said, hoping that his desire to stay was clear, even if his desire to find his soulmate was burning through him, “I don’t want to leave you.”

Asmodeus raised an eyebrow. “If you do not wish to leave, then what is the purpose of this conversation.”

Magnus swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet his father’s eyes. For the first time he could remember, the cat eyes that stared back at him were cold, devoid of the warmth and love that Magnus had grown so accustomed to.

Magnus wasn’t prepared for how much that look would hurt. “Please, Father, I must know. I can’t not meet them.”

“And so you would abandon me?”

Magnus knew it was impossible for Edom to ever feel cold, but somehow a chill seemed to be emanating from where Asmodeus sat. “No, I swear it, please, Father.” Magnus was aware that he was uncomfortably close to begging and that he had lost control of the conversation from the first word that Asmodeus had spoken. “I could not live with myself if I never even tried to meet them. I have to know who they are. I won’t be gone forever. I will come back, Father.”

Asmodeus stared for a long while. “Why?”

Magnus stopped, “I don’t understand.”

“Why is it so desperately important for you to go out and meet some mortal. What will they give you - a few fleeting years, at most? And even then, only if they stay true. Soulmarks are fickle, Magnus. All they do is draw you in so they can destroy you when you are at your weakest.”

Magnus shook his head slowly, not wanting to be contrary, but also in complete disagreement. “No, Father, it isn’t like that-”

“How is it not like that?” Asmodeus asked, cutting Magnus off. “You forget that I’ve seen you. That I have been watching as you tried to learn to live after you gave yourself to a Soulmark. Would you truly face me and call that strength? What could possibly drive you to desire that pain again?” Asmodeus stood slowly from his chair. “You know that it will be that pain again, Magnus. Even if you get them for their entire lives. All that will be left for you is ashes, and once again having to gather the pieces of yourself back together.

“There is strength in solitude, my son. I thought you had learned that.”

Magnus had no words. He didn’t know how to explain the fire that seemed to be lit, the feeling he had like he was somehow being tugged away from where he was.

“Soulmarks are a trap.” Asmodeus said, coldly, pinning Magnus with the stone strength of his gaze. “The only way to become who you truly are is to be above such things. The only way that you will ever truly know your own strength and potential is if you forsake some pathetic mark on your skin that will change as easily as the wind. You would have me watch as you _leave me_ in order to go weaken yourself. You have the audacity to ask for my blessing for such an endeavour?”

Magnus felt like he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know how to say what he was feeling. “That isn’t what I want, Father.”

Asmodeus looked Magnus over. “You say this, yet you still intend to leave.”

“I - I only have to know who they are.” Magnus was pleading with no pretense. “Please, you have to understand-”

“I do not have to understand, Magnus. All I know is that after all the time you’ve spent here, after everything that I have done for you, a mark appears on you and suddenly I have lost all value in your eyes.”

“Father, no-”

“I have named you my heir, Magnus. I do not do such things lightly.”

Magnus swallowed, fighting the burn in his eyes. “I will return, Father, please. I just have to know who my Match is.”

Asmodeus scoffed. “You simply think you can meet them and come back to me? That after the trouble of tracking them down, you will simply see them and then wish them farewell?”

Magnus could feel resolve settle into place. He squared his shoulders and matched his gaze to his Father’s. “Yes. I don’t need to spend a life with them. I simply need to see them once. Then I will be able to _know_. I just have to know who they are and then I will return, I swear it.”

Something softened in Asmodeus’ gaze. He tilted his head to the side, as if seeing Magnus in new light. “You truly mean that.”

Magnus nodded eagerly, “I do, Father, I don’t want to leave you.”

Asmodeus hummed in thought. “It has been some time since you came to me.”

Magnus was once more frozen, only this time the ebullient feeling of hope seemed to bubble through his fingertips.

“I have heard rumours that great change has been happening in the land of mortals,” Asmodeus continued, “I would have you learn the paths of these changes.”

“Father?” Magnus barely dared to believe what he was hearing.

“Take ten human years. Find out what there is to know, and report back to me after that time.”

Magnus couldn’t hold himself back, stepping forward and wrapping his father in a fierce hug. “Thank you so much. I will be back in ten years. I swear it.”

Asmodeus let Magnus cling as long as he needed to. When he finally stepped back, Asmodeus looked at him once more. “If you wish to return to me before your ten years, you are always welcome. If your mark proves to be as fickle as some, and you wish to come home, I will be here.”

Magnus let himself be overwhelmed for a moment, letting the feelings of love and support wash over him until he felt like he could withstand the coldest winters, simply from the warmth in his chest. “Thank you, Father.” He repeated one last time. “I love you.”

Asmodeus smiled. “I love you too, Son.”  With that, Asmodeus pulled back, spread his feet and pulled his arms forward, spinning his hands. Red light lit up the floor underneath Magnus, mapping out symbols and sigils that flared and disappeared faster than Magnus could read them.

Slowly, the light got brighter and brighter, until all Magnus could see was white.

 

Then there was only black.

 

When Magnus woke up, he found himself on a sand dune rising by the shore. He blinked slowly and looked around, searching for any kind of indication of where he was. The sand was pale and the water was clear blue and sparkled like a gemstone.

For a long moment, Magnus just sat back and revelled in the sun. After so long in the eternal twilight red of Edom’s sky, the wind and breeze, the blue of the sky and the heat of the sun, it was almost novel, and Magnus had missed it.

He took a deep breath of the sea air. Ten years. He had ten years to find his match. He sighed happily. It would surely be enough.

 

 


	3. Foscharina

~~~Two Years Later~~~

  
  
  


Magnus searched for years, and on his worst nights, he even began to fear that this father truly was correct, that Soulmarks were simply some game being played by fates. During the darkest moments, he wondered if there was some higher being that found amusement from watching precious mortals scramble for each other, like they would ever be able to find each other on the vast expanse of the earth.

 

All of his doubts vanished the moment that he met Foscharina.

She had been hiding behind a wall in the University of Modena and Reggio Emilia in Italy. She wasn’t allowed in, but that didn’t stop her from sitting in the dark of a servant’s passage, listening in regardless.

All it had taken was the single moment when they met eyes. Magnus had never seen eyes so dark and beautiful. He wanted to lose himself in her eyes for as long as she would let him.

His first two years of searching had been a haze of determination and desperate hope. Now, there was nothing but joy. Magnus felt like he couldn’t contain the all-consuming effervescence of it, like it would somehow seep out of his skin if he didn’t burn it off somehow.

The world had changed so much from the last time he had gone exploring. Steam had been captured for power, and factories were beginning to replace the hand-crafts that people had spent so many years perfecting. Foscharina introduced him to the piano, the work of chemists and scientists, the theories of philosophy and alchemy being discussed in the coffee shops. Magnus would cast a spell so they could look like the professors and they would walk in, heads held high, only to completely and utterly surpass the supposed superior intellects of the room.

It was so easy for Magnus to find a cozy bedroom and convert the shopfront beneath it into an apothecary. He built a work room so that he and Foscharina would have a place to actually enact the experiments that they built in theory. Magnus let himself become entranced. He gave himself to the life of playful hiding and forbidden secrets that Foscharina wanted to uncover. They spent their days learning new paths beneath the city and playing with new metals in their laboratory.

His days were spent with Foscharina, and his evenings were spent crafting. Science had led to so many new discoveries, and Magnus knew that any wedding ring he gave to his soulmate would have to be something that no one had ever seen before.

He sat in meditation with metals, glass, and gemstones. He let his magic flow around raw ingredients until he felt a pull to something, and then he would set himself to figuring out how to somehow include it. Foscharina was sparkling. The clean, sharp lines of her intellect constantly left Magnus in awe. He needed to make sure that whatever ring he came up with reflected that.

It was a barely two weeks after they’d met that Foscharina brought Magnus home to meet her family. They greeted Magnus as if he was a favoured relative they had lost touch with, and Magnus fought off the pangs of melancholy when his thoughts drifted to Asmodeus, alone in Edom.

It was that night, surrounded by family, that Magnus presented the wedding ring that he’d been creating. Foscharina had barely been able to speak through tears of joy, but she accepted without hesitation. Only after Magnus had sat back down did Foscharina gift him with her own secret project: an engraved pocket-watch that she had commissioned for him. They set the date for the wedding that very night.

Magnus had never felt such exquisite bliss.

 

   

The experiments with alchemy and magic that they sold from Magnus’ apothecary eventually attracted other magic, and Magnus found himself meeting the first magic-user he’d ever met, outside of his father. Evenings quickly evolved to be Magnus, Foscharina, and their new friend, Ragnor Fell. Foscharina would focus on equations and mathematics, while Magnus and Ragnor tested the effects of true magic in alchemy.Magnus felt like time itself had somehow turned golden, slowing down and spilling over everything he touched, imbuing it with joy and freedom and endless potential. It was when he was with Ragnor, trying to hunt down dragonfly wings, that Magnus first got the feeling that something was wrong.

“Ragnor. We have to go.”

“Magnus?”

“Something is wrong with Foscharina. It’s - She’s at the work-room alone. We have to go _now_.”

Ragnor took one look at the clear distress on Magnus’ face, and knew far better than to argue. They ran the entire way back.

It wasn’t enough.

 

Magnus crashed through the door of the apothecary, searching frantically for his soulmate. “Foscharina! Foscharina? Are you here?”

He almost didn’t hear the weak scratch of her voice. He ran to the back room, where her voice was coming from, only to be faced with the most horrific sight he had encountered in his entire life. Her limbs looked like they had been put together backwards, every single joint ending in unnatural angles. It was as if her skin had carefully, oh-so-delicately been peeled away from half of her body, leaving only the bloody, bright red flesh beneath it.

“Oh! Oh, Foscharina, no!” Magnus ran to her, calling instinctively on his magic.

 

He had lost one soulmate because he hadn’t known how to control his magic. Those days were gone. Magnus had no idea what had happened, but he knew that he would not allow Foscharina to die from it. He called his magic forward, guiding it with the unstopping motion of his fingers and shaping it with words that he had learned in Edom. He poured it into her body, letting it trace her bones and muscles, encouraging her body to heal.

It didn’t take long for Magnus to realize that the magic wasn’t working. He was doing all of the right things. He knew it, he could feel it, but his magic was simply being absorbed. He tried to sink more of it directly into her heart to keep it beating easily even as she lost blood. Magnus could feel the rush of power, he could see the magic shimmering out of his palms, but nothing he did was making any difference at all.

She was somehow immune to his magic, or resistant to it, but Magnus didn’t know how something like that could be possible. It was like there was something within her, consuming all of the power that was meant to save her, some horrid, magical tapeworm. He pushed harder.

There was something about the void that felt almost familiar, but Magnus had never seen such a thing. There was no way there could be anything familiar in magic so foreign to him.

“Magnus.” Foscharina’s voice was shattered, scratchy and weak. “Magnus, you cannot fix this.”

“I can.” Magnus vowed, not looking up from where he was trying to knit skin back together over her abdomen. “I swear to you, I love you, I won’t let you die.”

Foscharina coughed, and it was an ugly, wet sound. “Sometimes even the strongest magic is not enough.”

“It will be enough. I will make it enough.” Magnus poured more magic into her wounds, even though it made no difference. He couldn’t lose her, though. He couldn’t lose another soulmate, couldn’t handle holding her in his arms and watching as he wasn’t enough, once again. Magnus was entirely consumed with pouring every ounce of his magic into his soulmate, running through spells in every language he knew; desperately trying to patch things together, shoving syllables together to try and get his intent across.

    Ragnor finally stumbled into the workroom, panting and out of breath. The tableau that he saw when he walked in was nothing that he ever wanted to encounter. With a horrified gasp, he scrambled to where Magnus was curled over his soulmate, seemingly unaware of the tears that were sliding down his face. Foscharina - beautiful, bright, bold Foscharina - laid low, looking like she had faced horrors that were too terrible to belong in the world. Her breathing was ragged and loud, uneven gasping that Ragnor knew meant nothing good. Carefully, he knelt beside the couple, trying not to disturb them.

Magnus blinked up at him, looking completely ruined. “Please help me, Ragnor.”

“Of course.” Ragnor’s heart broke at the desolate desperation in Magnus’ eyes, and the clouded haze of pain that was so clear on Foscharina’s face. “What can I do?”

“Anything.” Magnus said, voice breaking on the word.

Ragnor wasn’t trained in healing, but he reached out anyway, weaving his hands over the body of his friend, hoping that somehow he could get past whatever was blocking Magnus.

It was like sending electricity into a rock. As much as Ragnor could push, he couldn’t get any of his power to soak in.

Foscharina took another horrible, rattling breath. Slowly, she brought one of her ruined hands up to grasp and Magnus’ wrist. She winced at the contact, as the feeling of his skin against her raw, torn flesh shot fire all through her arm, but she persisted.

Some things were worth the pain.

Love was worth the pain.

 

“Magnus, darling.”

“No.” Magnus said, unable to bring himself to look her in the eyes.

“Please, my love, look at me.”

Magnus let out a choked sob as he finally met her gaze. “Foscharina, I can’t-”

“This is not your fault, Magnus.”

Magnus bit at his lips, trying desperately not to cry.

“I love you so much, Magnus Filius. _Mi Magnifico Figlio._ You have brought more light to my life than I ever thought was possible.”

“I love you, Foscharina.” Magnus said, softly begging, pleading. “Please, my love, just a little longer, we can figure this out, we can fix this-”

“Sometimes,” She said softly, rasping for breath, “the point of an equation,” she had to pause again, riding out another wave of pain, “is not to be solved.”

“My love…” They were the only words that Magnus could think of, the only words he ever wanted to say for the rest of his life.

“I love you Magnus.” She repeated. Her voice was weaker, barely loud enough to be heard.

“I love you, Foscharina.” Magnus said, as steadily as he could, leaning down to press the softest kiss to her lips, her forehead, her hair. He could feel it when the warmth of her breath stopped. There was a moment, a flash of scent, and all Magnus could think of was the endless dry of Edom.

Then, there was only the all-encompassing, horrifyingly familiar feeling of losing a Soulmark. It was as if every muscle he had was doused in acid and electricity all at once.

 

Ragnor could only watch helplessly as one of his friends was ripped away from him, and the other was thrust into a cruel world of grief.

“She’s gone.” Magnus said softly, his voice hollow and broken.

“Magnus, my dear friend...” Ragnor trailed off, knowing there was nothing he could truly say.

Magnus had stood up mechanically, and Ragnor had never seen a living person with such a dead look in their eyes.

Magnus stayed until Foscharina had been buried, and when he disappeared shortly afterward, no one was surprised.

  
  
  
  


Magnus had never been taught the spell to get to Edom, but he didn’t need one. He could simply breathe and feel the call of it in his blood. Magnus could feel the steady, warm comfort of his father, knew the solace of the unchanging red sky. Magnus pulled his magic around himself and he could feel it as he slid between dimensions.

Edom was, as ever, dry: the air smelling of smoke, sulfur and iron.

Magnus somehow gathered the strength to stand, even though all he wanted to do was break down and cry until he could feel nothing. It would be alright. He was home. Magnus knew he’d hurt Asmodeus when he’d left, but he was also certain that Asmodeus would be just as welcoming, now that Magnus was back.

It seemed like barely a blink before Magnus was once again at the door to his Father’s house. He had a moment where he contemplated knocking, but he decided against it. It was his home as well, and he knew that Asmodeus would have felt it as soon as he entered the realm.

Magnus wandered through the house, knowing that his Father would most likely be in the lounge.

Asmodeus looked up when Magnus entered the room. “My dear boy, you are back early. Did something happen?”

Magnus looked at his father and saw the warmth, the love and comfort in familiar cat eyes, and Magnus knew that this was exactly where he wanted to be. Magnus opened his mouth to try to answer his father’s question, but he couldn’t seem to get any words out. All Magnus managed was a broken gasp.

“Oh, my dearest Magnus.” Asmodeus said softly, pushing out of his chair and walking over, enveloping Magnus in a warm, steady hug.

“You were right, Father.” Magnus said, sniffling softly. “Soulmarks are nothing but pain and weakness.”

“I never wanted this for you.” Asmodeus said, gently petting Magnus’ hair.

Magnus sniffed again. “You warned me. You told me that Soulmarks were fickle.”

“Hearing something and knowing it can be two very different things.” Asmodeus said calmly, more than willing to hold Magnus for as long as Magnus needed to be held.

 

It was a long while and many tears later when Magnus finally pulled away from his Father’s embrace.

“Let me get you a drink, Magnus.” Asmodeus said, heading to the crystalline glasses he favoured for special occasions.

Magnus nodded silently, still numb from emotion and grief. Asmodeus handed him a drink. The liquid in it was a full, deep red that shimmered with light and dark purple undertones. Looking at it made Magnus’ heart hurt. Reds and purples had been the dominant colours of Foscharina’s mark.

Her mark had been so very beautiful, starting in the middle of her foot and then curling around her leg. It had flared out above her knee, until it had covered the circumference of her leg almost entirely.

Magnus had only seen it once.

They had been searching for Lace Moss and fallen into a stream. It had far surpassed scandalous, but Magnus had never been so grateful for ignoring cultural taboos.

He couldn’t imagine a world where he had never gotten to see Foscharina’s mark.

Magnus sighed softly and tipped the drink back. He knew his Father meant well, but Magnus truly wasn’t in the mood to drink and catch up.

The red drink tasted familiar when Magnus poured it down his throat. It tasted like the sound of Foscharina’s laugh, and the way that she would smile in the laboratory when they had just disproved another dozen theories from the local professors. It was the taste of her spirit, the way that she met every adversity with a glare and a grin, determined to overcome anything or anyone with the audacity to stand in her way.

Magnus swallowed quickly and stared at the liquid in the glass again, swirling it slowly, watching as the colours shifted before his eyes. Now that he was looking for it, it was sickeningly obvious. The liquid shimmered under his gaze, the broad, deep red of Foscharina’s Soulmark, complete with the swirls of purple, the lines of deep, metallic, midnight blue.

Realization was crashing down on Magnus as his horror mounted. This was far from the first time that he’d been fed a drink like this. He turned to stare at his father, suddenly remembering how none of his magic was enough to save his soulmate, how he’d almost felt the power of Edom within her as he had tried to save her.

“You.” He said, not wanting to truly put voice to his suspicions.

“Magnus?” Asmodeus asked, looking confused.

“Did you…” Magnus trailed off. “You killed her, didn’t you.”

“My dear boy, I don’t know what-”

“You did.” Magnus cut him off. “I _loved_ her. How could you?”

Asmodeus drew himself up. “I told you. Soulmarks are weakness hiding behind the lies that are so pretty you want to believe them. None of it is real.”

“It was.” Magnus said, shaking his head slowly, stepping away from his father. “How can you say it’s not real?”

“You were ready to marry her after what, a handful of days?” Asmodeus scoffed. “It would have been no time at all until you were so blinded by emotion that you forgot your true purpose.”

“My _purpose_?” Magnus spat back, “All I ever wanted-”

“All you ever wanted were fanciful falsehoods. If you want love, Magnus, that is all I have ever offered you. I took you in and taught you everything I knew. I want you here, by my side, fulfilling your potential.”

Magnus stared at him in ever-growing horror. “This is my potential?” He swept his arms wide to gesture at the endless dead landscape of Edom. “This is all that I will amount to?”

Asmodeus snarled, “Watch yourself, my son. Do not forget that I am the ruler of this land.”

“What was I to be? Some pet, trained to attack at your command?”

“I love you.” Asmodeus snapped. The ground around his feet was starting to shimmer and smoke as his anger grew. “All I have ever done is to help you become the man I know you can be.”

Magnus stared at his father, then glanced down at the glass that was still in his hand. “I… I don’t want it. If this is what it means to be a Prince of Edom, if this is what it means to be your son, I don’t want it.”

Asmodeus growled, swinging a hand up and curling his fingers tightly to his palm, freezing Magnus in place. “I have given you everything I could,” he said, voice low and dangerous, “and you’re rejecting me for giving you _power_?” The end of the red liquid in Magnus’ glass suddenly rose into the air, changing into a fine, red powder.

“You told me that you never wanted to face that pain again.” Asmodeus said coldly. “Yet you would paint me as a villain for making that so?”

Magnus opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was as frozen as his body. All he could do was watch as Asmodeus stalked closer.

“I love you, Magnus. You are to be the greatest of my children.” He stepped close, until his face was barely a hands-width from Magnus. “You chose to stay with me. You took the name I gave you.” Asmodeus spun his hand slowly, stretching his fingers out. The red dust of Magnus’ shattered soulbond started to coalesce into a dense cloud.

Two sets of matching cat eyes stared at each other, one frozen in fear and heartbreak, the other flashing with anger and betrayal.

“I will not allow you to hold yourself back, Magnus Filius. My Great Son.” With a flick of his fingers, Magnus found his mouth and nose filled with the dust and ashes of the time he could have spent with Foscharina.

Magnus could feel the tears gathering in his eyes, but he still couldn’t move, couldn’t fight against his father’s power. He could feel the red mist as it cleared from his breathing, only to become a rush of power he could feel zipping through his body, sparking at his skin.

“It was a mistake to even allow you this mark.” Asmodeus said, coldly. “I see that now.”

Magnus knew the first time he’d been given such a drink, it had been the emerald of Scoutijn, but then his mind skipped to the strange dreams he’d had, the flashes of non-existent memory spent discovering Seelie mysteries. Asmodeus hadn’t just taken Scoutijn and Foscharina, Magnus realized. The Kind of Edom had been stealing Soulmarks from Magnus before Magnus even realized they had manifested. Magnus could feel the numb, heartbreaking grief begin to melt into anger.

“I thought you understood.” Asmodeus sneered, spinning his hands together. “Apparently you still have much to learn.”

Magnus could feel something tearing at him, from the inside of the soles of his feet. Slowly, painfully, up through his entire body, an endless ripping, burning pain made manifest. Magnus couldn’t move, frozen and trapped, unable to shake Asmodeus’ power.

Asmodeus stepped back, bringing his hands together and sweeping them towards himself. Magnus watched in horror as more coloured dust was drawn from his body, once again being shaped into a cloud in front of Asmodeus. Magnus’ eyes were open, but he couldn’t fight the visions flashing through him. Ephemeral impressions of warm, soft hands against his skin. Eyes of crystalline blue, the rush of affection, the comfort of security. It was too fast for Magnus to hold on to. The flashes of premonition too quick for him to keep the images clear.

“How is some pathetic, fleeting love greater than power that no one can take from you?” Asmodeus said, once again pushing the dust into Magnus.

Magnus felt sick, trying desperately to hang on to the shreds of memory, even as his body tried to adjust to the newfound energy suddenly surging through him.

“Even now, you fight it.” Asmodeus said, cruel condescension dripping from his voice. “I am giving you the only true gift that exists, and still you fight it. I am giving you power. Power that can only grow as you do, that can unlock the true depths of your potential, and yet you still fight me.”

Asmodeus swept his hands apart once more, and Magnus found himself submerged in visions once again. There was heat and laughter. Magnus thought he saw dark hair against dark skin, glowing in the sun. Then it was gone. Magnus hadn’t even seen their face. The dust this time was a pure, bright yellow, shot through blue, purple, and shimmering green. Then it was once again forced into him, blocking his breathing until all he knew was the electric zing of growing power.

“What is the point of trading power when you know you will only ever get sorrow in return?” Asmodeus asked, settling in to a stable stance, drawing forth his magic to burn through another one of Magnus’ matches.

 

It was all Magnus could do to keep track, doggedly attempting to catalogue the flashes of information as they were pulled from his future. One cloud silver, swirled with the lightest, most delicate iterations of colour, the next brown and black and gold. The one after that was brilliant pink, shaded with orange and blue.

The power was crashing through Magnus and he knew that all he could do was try not to get swept away in it.

He failed.

Magnus had lost track of Asmodeus, only knowing that there was dust constantly being forced into his body. The dust of promise. Of what could have been love.

Magnus let himself drift, awash in power. He felt like he was outside of himself, removed from everything and simply watching the scene from afar.

It took a moment for Magnus to realize that while he still couldn’t feel his feet, he had a growing awareness of the ground beneath him. Magnus pushed into the feeling, only to realize that he could feel the very magic of Edom itself. It was a dead place, but the bones of it were magic, and everything that had been built since was thrumming with the same power. Magnus reached out, letting it run through him. Suddenly, the untapped power of Edom spread before Magnus like an ocean.

Magnus let himself sink into it, getting a feel for the tide of it, before he drew himself together and _pulled_. He could feel the way that it spooled in from the edges first, but he kept pulling, waiting for the tiniest, dribbling streams that would lead him back to the rivers that took days to cross. Magnus drew all of it in, letting it burn through him, driving him back to awareness of his body.

If Asmodeus wanted him to have power, Magnus was _burning_ with it.

With nothing more than the sheer force of his will, Magnus broke free from the stasis Asmodeus had been holding him in.

“No.” Magnus said. “I will not let you choose this for me.” Distantly, Magnus could hear the ring of power crashing through his voice.

Asmodeus took a step back, shock flashing through his features before it was taken over with a hollow, grim smile of conquest. “All of life is simply who can gain the most power, Magnus. I know you can feel it.”

Magnus stared at his father, but all he could hear were the words that Scoutijn had spoken to him in his dream.

_There are those who will value power over love. There are those who believe that having power is love. For you, love is power. Never let anyone take that from you._

“If it is my power, then it is my choice how to use it.” Magnus said, mechanically. “I will not have you take that from me.” Magnus was lost in magic, in memory. It was beyond thought when he brought his arms up. “You shall never again reap profit from the destruction of soulbonds.” He said. “I banish you from my life. I banish you from ever returning to the human realm.” There was a ground-shaking crack as Magnus felt his words carving themselves into the very core of Edom itself. The magic was shaped through his words, through the motion of his arms, through the _intent_ of his entire being.

Magnus didn’t realize it, but three rules were carved into the very foundation of Edom itself:

Asmodeus could no longer harvest the power of soulbonds, could no longer leave Edom of his own free will, and never again could Asmodeus reach out to influence Magnus’ life in any way.

 

It was merely the power of another breath for Magnus to turn away from his father and reach out with all the magic of Edom. He could feel the way that the realm of Edom sat, hidden in the shadows of the human world. Magnus took a single step and pushed, sliding through until he found himself once again in the world he had been born in.

 

Magnus was back on earth, but he could still feel the power of Edom crackling through him. All of the magic from the Soulmarks he would now never have was burning through him. He had never felt so out of control. Even when he had been a child, Magnus had felt like he could pull his magic in if he needed to.

The endless depths of power that now unspooled within him were nothing that Magnus knew how to deal with. He had a starting point, though. Before Magnus had fled Italy, Ragnor had offered solace and knowledge in London.

There was only one thing he had to do first. _“Never let anyone take that from you.”_ Scoutijn had said. Magnus understood, finally, what his soulmate had meant. To be his match meant death. The only way he could truly protect the people he loved was if he never found them.

Magnus closed his eyes and let out a slow breath, reaching deep into the magic of Edom and turning it in on himself, wiping his skin clear of even the potential of a Soulmark.

He would mourn, but he knew better now. Being his soulmate was a death sentence. He knew that he would care far too much for any potential soulmate to put them in such danger.

Never again could anyone take his love, because he made the decision for himself to banish them.

Magnus paused for a moment, remembering the words Asmodeus had spoken when they had first met. Names were gifts that could be outgrown. Magnus had by far outgrown any desire to be connected to his father.

His father that he had banished.

He took a breath. Bane.

He could do that. He _would_ be great, not because of his father but in spite of him instead. Magnus lifted his chin as he felt strength and surety start to seep through him. He would be everything that Asmodeus believed was weakness. Magnus would live for love; he would live for _himself_ , and the King of Edom could choke on it.

Magnus rubbed his fingers together, feeling the spark of magic beneath his skin. _Magnus Bane_ \- defying anyone who would hold him down or make him in to something he wasn’t. He let the magic grow into a glowing sphere in his palm. He would carve his life into the shape _he_ chose, and pity be to anyone who would try to stop him.

The sun was high in the sky. Magnus Bane turned to walk away from the ocean.

 


	4. A Night of Fire

~~~ 12 YEARS AFTER THE FALL OF THE CIRCLE ~~~

  


“This is a bad idea, Jace.” Alec’s voice was flat.

“No, it isn’t!” Jace protested, grinning brightly. “See, this is how we’ll show them.”

“Show them that we aren’t ready to be left out in the field because we can’t be trusted to make good decisions?”

Jace glared at him. “Alec. You’re fourteen, I’m nearly thirteen. There is no reason that we shouldn’t be allowed into the field together. We’re going to be parabatai! They need to let us patrol together.”

“Stunts like this are not going to help your argument.” Alec said.

“It’s not a stunt, and you know it! We’re _ready_ for this!”

Alec sighed. “It doesn't matter if we’re ready or not. We don’t have Clave approval-”

“Alec,” Jace said, sounding disappointed and serious, “that is exactly why we need to do this. They’re never going to take us seriously until we can prove to them that we’re ready for more responsibility.”

Alec didn’t mention that _he_ hardly needed to prove his responsibility. He had already begun covering for his parents when they had to leave for day-long meetings in Idris. He had been tasked with managing accounts for some of the base supplies as well, making sure to balance savings and expenditures.

His responsibilities were important, and he knew that. He couldn’t deny that he wanted the same things as Jace, though. The idea of getting to go out with his best friend, his brother, and patrol. The idea of walking the streets of New York, just the two of them, stalking through the sewers to catch any signs of nesting demons.

It was so far from glamorous, but it was everything that Alec wanted. The rush of adrenaline from a fight, and the joy of getting to fight with Jace. Whenever Alec let himself think about the fragile hopes for his future, that was always what it looked like.

He would be there, running the Institute, but every night, he’d get to go out with Jace and Isabelle. He knew that they were the best team that had come out of the New York Institute in generations. He had the head for diplomacy and strategy. Isabelle was the smartest person he’d ever met in his life. Then there was Jace - Jace who somehow fought like it was breathing.

They were all Shadowhunters. Their purpose in life was fighting. There was something about Jace, though, that made it look more like poetry. Fighting for Jace wasn’t duty, it was freedom.

Everytime Alec saw it, he couldn’t help the tug of longing that he felt deep in his gut. Whenever he was fighting, Jace always looked so focused but so free. Alec couldn’t imagine what it must feel like; to be able to lose yourself and somehow _know_ that the way your body moved was going to be the best decision.

Alec loved archery. Finding the bow was one of the best things that had ever happened to him. For him, though, archery wasn’t reckless freedom. It was silence. Alec turned to archery when he needed silence. When the echoes of voices in his head got too loud, he could drown them out with steady breathing and the quiet swish of arrows sliding through the air. Archery was escape when Alec felt like he was drowning.

“Alec!” Jace said, impatiently.

“Just because I’m not agreeing with you doesn’t mean I’m not listening, Jace.”

“Come _on_! You know we can do this.”

“It’s not about whether or not we _can_ , Jace. It’s about whether or not we _should_ , and we most definitely _should not_.”

Something dark and hurt flashed through Jace’s eyes. “If you don’t want to come with me, you don’t have to.”

“Woah, Jace, nobody ever said anything about me not going with you. If you’re going then I am definitely going with you.” Alec didn’t even stop to think about his words. He didn’t need to. It was simply the truth. If Jace wanted to go out and be stupid, Alec would be right there with him, doing his best to make sure that they both managed to come home unscathed.

    “If you’re coming with me, what are we even talking about?” Jace asked, grinning. The flash of whatever pain that had shimmered through his two-tone eyes was gone in an instant.

“Jace…” Alec said, running a hand through his hair. He knew he wasn’t going to win. He’d lost any hope of talking Jace down as soon as he’d admitted that he wouldn’t let Jace go alone. “If we’re going, we’re at least going to fill out the mission request first.”

“Alec, we can’t do that! If we do that, people will know where we are.”

“That is why it’s a requirement to fill them out.” Alec said. “Just in case something goes sideways and we need back-up.”

“No back-up, Alec. That completely defeats the point!”

“I really would prefer to not die before we even become parabatai.” Alec said sourly.

“We’re going to be fine, Alec.” Jace said, meeting his eyes squarely. “I promise.”

“What if we fill out the report and don’t turn it in? Then people will at least know where we’re going.” Alec tried, hoping for any point of compromise.

“Alec.” Jace chided, raising an eyebrow. “We are not going to fill out the paperwork, and I know this will come as a surprise to you, but the world is not gonna end.”

“Nobody enjoys paperwork, but it is all there for a reason.” Alec muttered.

“Are you trying to pretend you don’t like paperwork right now?” Jace asked.

“I don’t!” Alec protested.

“Uh-huh. Sure you don’t, buddy. That’s a good one.” Jace said with a grin, “It’s really funny. Tell me another?”

Alec rolled his eyes. “You’re an asshole, Jace.”

“Yet you still said yes when I asked to be your parabatai.”

“Of course I did!”

“And that’s exactly why I knew you’d come with me tonight.” Jace said with a smug grin on his face.

Alec rolled his eyes again. “Let’s just get our gear and go, okay? And if Izzy asks what we’re up to, you’re the one who’s explaining.”

Jace paused. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Alec could only laugh as they both made their way to the weapons hall to sneak in and grab their gear.

  
  


The night was overcast, the orange of the city lights reflecting off the clouds hanging low in the sky. It wasn’t great for visibility, but it also wasn’t the kind of cloudy that meant rain, so Alec would happily take it. They were following as much protocol as Alec could convince Jace to follow, so they were glamoured into invisibility from mundane eyes.

Jace had apparently overheard some hot tip about Xaphan demons being spotted in Hudson Heights. Fire demons were always dangerous, but they were also a very specific threat to mundanes. It was said that the great fire of 1835 was actually because a nest of fire demons had gone uncontained.

Alec had to admit that it was a good target. Xaphan demons were fairly easy to disperse, and were very solitary. The only time there was ever more than one was if a nest had just hatched. It seemed like it would be fairly straightforward to hit the neighbourhood, do a search and see what they found.

If Alec was hoping that the tip was wrong and they wouldn’t find anything, he knew far better than to mention it to Jace.

 

It took them a few minutes to get to the neighbourhood, and then Jace was drawing a rune to activate heat vision. Alec could only sigh and join him. They were stalking down the alleys when they first heard a scream.

They didn’t even need to look at each other, just turned and started running towards the sound. It was training that had practically become instinct. They were just streets away, and it took no time to get there with speed runes activated.

Three things were clear when they reached the building: one was that Jace’s tip had been correct. Two was that they were dealing with a newly-hatched nest, as nearly a dozen sun-bright heat spots were visible within the building. The third thing was that the building was currently occupied by sleeping mundane families.

There was no choice, and no time to call for backup. They rushed the building as the fire alarms started going off. They ran up the stairs, trying to dodge terrified mundanes who were running for their lives.

They reached the fourth floor when Alec grabbed Jace by the jacket and dragged them out of the crush of people in the stairs and into the hallway.

“Plan.” Alec explained, looking around. Everywhere he looked, he could see the heat signature of more demons, burning bright in his vision even through the floors the building. “We need to split up.”

Jace nodded.

Alec pulled them to the side of the hallway to avoid another mundane running to the exit. “We head to the top floor, you take the left half of the building. I’ll take the right. We clear the floor then move down.”

“Sounds good.” Jace agreed.

“No one else is coming,” Alec reminded him, “so this is on us. We can’t let anyone get hurt.”

“I know, Alec.” Jace said, meeting his eyes.

Alec nodded. They both knew the stakes in this.

“See you on the other side.” Jace said, holding his hand up for Alec to take.

“Always.” Alec replied, reaching for Jace’s hand and letting himself get pulled in for brief, firm hug.

“Let’s go kick some ass!” Jace said with a grin.

“Just try not to get yourself fried.” Alec replied. They took a step away from each other, then turned and ran to the staircases on opposite sides of the building.

 

Demonfire wasn’t like mundane fire. It burned far hotter, but left no smoke. Alec wasn’t sure if sheer heat was enough to set off mundane fire alarms, but whatever had triggered the alarm, Alec was grateful for it. The heat was in the air itself. He could feel it in his lungs as he ran up down the hallway, having to dodge places where the fire was burning too heavily to ever be put out.

Despite the heat of the flames, the demons themselves were still brighter. Like mirrors flashing sunlight, they appeared as a piercing, nearly blinding white light. They were young, and though they were small, they weren’t terribly intelligent. It made it easy enough for Alec to move through them fairly quickly, fire fizzling out in surrender to adamas as Alec swung his blade.

Alec could feel the leather of his gear sticking to him as the heat continued to rise. Sweat stung at his eyes, but it didn’t seem to matter if he wiped it away. He was panting through his mouth because the heat seemed to burn the inside of his nose if he didn’t.

He couldn’t afford to be distracted by any of that, though. He had to contain the demons so the fire couldn’t spread to any other buildings, and he had to make sure that all mundanes were safely cleared out of the building.

They weren’t easy objectives, but they were simple.

Alec ran, letting his momentum take him up a wall so he could flip backwards to land on his feet but behind a Xaphan. His blade went through it with barely any resistance, and the creature dissolved into dust. Alec did a quick check of the floor, making sure that all of the sun-bright spots had disappeared. He glanced up and saw Jace at the other end of the hall.

“We don’t need both of us on one level.” Jace shouted. “I’m gonna go down two floors.”

Alec wasn’t sold on the idea, but he knew they didn’t have time to argue. “Be careful!” He shouted back.

“Meet you at the bottom!” Jace shouted back before turning and disappearing down the stairs.

Alec didn’t watch him leave, instead heading for the other set of stairs to start his way down to the floor below.

The fire was beginning to truly take hold of the building, slipping up the walls and crawling along the ceiling. As the Xaphan died, the demonfire was losing its heat. Smoke was starting to curl through the air, getting ever thicker as Alec continued to cut down demons. He had honestly lost track of how many there were. Numbers weren’t important. All that mattered was making sure no one got hurt.

There was no time to think; there was only reaction and movement. Pieces of the ceiling were starting to fall as the fire burned through the supports. Alec was leaping around flame, twisting out of the way of falling debris, dodging demonfire spat from the mouths of the Xaphan demons. The metal of his sword was almost too hot to hold, despite leather grip around the pommel.

Another slash, and the hallway was once again clear of the sunspot presence of demons. Alec took a moment to glance up, checking that nothing had managed to get past him and Jace and get back into the upper floors of the building.

It was bright, a wall of heat, but none of the painfully bright flare that meant demons.

At least that much was going right.

    He gave another futile attempt at wiping the sweat from his eyes and then ran to the stairs. He trusted Jace to be clearing his own floors, so Alec skipped the next one and went two below, where the whole process began again.

    Alec could feel the heat and the smoke starting to get to him. He would spin to reach a demon, and the world would spin with him. The air was burning his throat as he moved and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. The heat was seeping into his gear. His clothes had gotten so hot that the leather and fabric meant to protect him had started to burn his skin. He could hear the walls start to creak and groan as the fire continued to eat into the infrastructure of the building. He could tell he wasn’t getting enough air, but he pushed through. He only had one floor to clear after the one he was on.

    Somehow managing to stay on his feet, Alec cut through the last of the demons in the hall before heading to the stairways. He could feel the heat coming off the metal of the door handle, so he kicked it open instead of risking his hands. Somehow, the air in the stairway was blissfully clear. Alec gave himself a few moments to breathe. The cement blocked some of the heat, and Alec was gasping down air that was not burning hot and mostly smoke.

    As soon as he could stand without the world starting to tilt, Alec made his way down two floors. He could tell that there were only a few demons left. Most of them had been in the upper levels of the building. Alec took one last breath of cool air before kicking open the door to the hallway.

    The heat-vision was making the world so bright that Alec could barely keep his eyes open, but it was the only way to see the Xaphan, so he just squinted against the light. He could feel that his responses were getting slower, but he didn’t dare reach for his stele. He could feel the bright heat of it through his clothes, far too hot for him to handle, and he could only hope that it wouldn’t be damaged from the fire.

He couldn’t breathe, could barely see, but fighting was what he knew. His body remembered the endless hours of drills, falling back into a wide stance, waiting for an opening to strike. He was focused forward but remained aware of his surroundings, ducking around burning rubble as it fell. It was to step forward and lunge, keep his feet in line, keep moving forward. Don’t give ground, don’t stop, keep his guard up.

Somehow, Alec managed to get to the end of the hallway. When he looked around, all he could see was fire, but no more of the spark-bright shapes of the Xaphan. He tried to wipe the sweat from his eyes to give one more glance.

A crack louder than gunfire sounded through the air and Alec knew he was out of time. He turned and bolted for the stairs, running down as quickly as he could. He had to get out of the building before it fell.

The air outside the building felt nothing short of a miracle. Alec stumbled out the door and hit the ground hard, rolling on to his back and just letting himself breathe. His skin was burning everywhere. It felt like the leather from his gear had melted, fusing to his body wherever it touched. He was certain that the palms of his hands were blistered and that the tread from his boots had melted.

But he was alive. The demons were gone. There had been no mundanes left in the building when he’d gotten out.

They would be lucky if they didn’t get suspended from duty for the next three years, but _they had done it_. Alec gave himself one more moment - just another breath to revel in it - then he painfully pulled himself up off the ground and back to his feet.

The world spun and his ears were ringing, but Alec knew that would pass. He could feel a manic grin clinging to his face, but he couldn’t help it. _They had done it_. There was something giddy bubbling through his veins, and Alec didn’t fight it.

    He turned and scanned the crowd, looking for Jace. The mundane police had arrived at some point, along with firefighters. People were everywhere. It was no surprise that Alec couldn’t see Jace.

    Alec started to wander through the crowd, and the smile dropped from his face. The happiness bubbling through his blood turned to lead.

    Alec knew there was no point to a glamour if he didn’t keep quiet. People could hear even what they couldn’t see. None of that mattered though. Alec broke into a jog, pushing his way through groups of people, not even paying the slightest bit of attention to whether or not they noticed him.

    Jace was nowhere. Alec screamed for him, calling out his name with increasing desperation, but he was met only with silence, and confused mundanes staring in the direction of what they thought was empty air.

    Alec couldn’t breathe. It was worse than any fire.

   

    Jace was still in the building.

    Alec reached for his stele, ignoring the burning heat in his fingertips. He deactivated his heat vision rune, knowing that it wouldn’t help him find a human in the middle of an inferno. He was shaking as he stared back into the fire.

    Mundanes had put up ladders and were frantically pouring water in through broken windows. Alec walked by all of them in a daze. He reached the door of the building. It had been closed by the fire fighters. He couldn’t open it without undue attention.

    He glanced back up at the ladders. He could climb the bottom of one, crawl in through a window that way. Decision made, Alec darted through the field, avoiding brushing against any of the fire crew that were rushing the building.

    He could feel the strain in his arms as he leapt for the highest ladder rung he could reach and then began to climb higher. The fire was too hot even from as far away as he was and he kept having to turn away to prevent ash from getting into his eyes.

Jace was in the building, though, and Alec knew that he would rather not return at all than know that he hadn’t even _tried_ to save his best friend. He climbed until his hips were even with the lowest window, then he curled himself as small as possible and launched himself through.

The window shattered under the impact of his weight but broke his momentum. He fell heavily onto the burning floor. He rolled away from the flames before staggering to his feet. The smoke was so thick he could barely see his hands in front of him.

“Jace!” Alec screamed again, coughing as he inhaled burning smoke. The air burned, all the way down his throat to his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. He pulled his shirt up over his mouth as best he could and tried to make his way back to the hallway.

He _would_ find Jace. Nothing would stop him. He stumbled into the hallway which was nearly unrecognizable through the flames. Pulling his shirt down for a moment, Alec tried again, screaming for Jace.

He was nearly brought to his knees from coughing, but Alec struggled on. “JACE!” Alec didn’t know if his voice could even be heard over the flame, but he couldn’t give up. He stumbled through the hallway, bent at the waist, trying to breathe air that wasn’t entirely smoke.

He had nearly reached the stairs at the end of the hallway when one of the doors at far end of the corridor opened. “Jace!” Alec tried to scream, but it barely came out as a rasp.

Somehow, though, Jace managed to hear it. “Alec!” He cried, and tried to make his way over to where his brother was.

Alec shook his head, trying to clear his vision. He couldn’t breathe. “Jace, we need to get out of here!”

“Alec!” Jace screamed back, and then his eyes went wide with terror, “ALEC!”

Alec couldn’t hear the warning though. He was so focused on remaining standing that he didn’t hear the crack of the ceiling. Jace screamed again and started running in his direction, but Alec didn’t hear it. The ceiling had started to come down: huge sheets of melting, burning sheetrock. The ceiling tiles were only half as tall as Alec was, but that was enough. It struck him on the back, and Alec fell.

For a moment, there was the most exquisite, exceptional pain that Alec had ever experienced.

Then, there was black.

 

 

~~~ EARLIER THAT NIGHT~~~

 

   

Magnus was sitting in a lounge chair in his living room, more than content to sip at his cocktail and catch up on his reading. There was a tug at his wards, followed by the familiar sound of a portal opening. There were very few people who could portal directly into his home. (So many fewer now then there had been even a few years ago. The Circle had snuffed out so many bright and beautiful souls…)

Magnus wasn’t expecting anyone, but he was never one to turn away the companionship of a friend. Ragnor Fell stepped through the portal and Magnus smiled at the familiar face of his oldest friend. “Ragnor! Wonderful to see you, as always!” He stood and swung his arms wide in greeting. “Welcome! Can I get you a drink?”

Ragnor frowned and shook off the warmth of Magnus’ greeting. “Not this time, Magnus.”

“What do you mean?” Magnus asked, his worry quickly overtaking any joy he felt at Ragnor’s appearance.

“Magnus,” Ragnor’s voice held nothing but sorrow, “There are growing rumours that you must know of.”

“Ragnor, what’s wrong?” Magnus could feel his heart sinking. All he wanted was a few years of peace. Valentine’s Circle had destroyed so many lives, damaged downworld communities with an efficiency that Magnus was still shocked by.

“Perhaps I should sit down.” Ragnor said softly, moving to the chair closest to Magnus.

Magnus reached up to tug at the cuff he was wearing around the outer shell of his ear. “Ragnor, please just tell me. Waiting will not make anything better.”

“I am truly sorry.” Ragnor paused, looking his friend over. “In the past few years there have been an increasing number of Warlocks experiencing their Soulmarks drastically changing or fading completely.”

“Valentine-” Magnus started.

“Valentine is dead.” Ragnor said softly. “But this trend still continues, so clearly there is a different cause behind it.”

Magnus froze, his heart turning to stone, every cell in his body icing over with dread. “What are you saying, Ragnor?”

“We don’t know for sure,” Ragnor said softly, knowing how much this conversation was hurting his friend, “but could it be possible that someone has found a way to transfer energy from the other side of a Soulmark?”

“The other side of a Soulmark?”

“We think that someone may be targeting mundanes with warlock soulmates.”

Magnus couldn’t say anything to that, couldn’t move, could barely breathe. After everything he’d done, after the years he’d spent alone, trying to pretend he didn’t want anyone. The years that he’d spent committed to people who could never love him back, because he was chasing feelings that he would never again allow himself to have.

It was all for nothing.

It didn’t matter how far he ran, or how much he sacrificed. Asmodeus would forever be on his heels. Even though he’d banished his own Soulmarks, it wasn’t enough. If he wanted to protect the lives of his matches, he’d have to take _their_ marks as well.

That wasn’t fair. Not to him, not to _anyone_.

But having a mark stolen was better than losing one’s life. With life came other opportunities, and other marks. Magnus would just have to believe that any soulmate he could have had will simply move on to someone else.

“You think that Asmodeus is killing mundanes to capture the energy of the broken soulbond.” Magnus summarized, too numb for his voice to have any inflection.

Ragnor shook his head and leaned forward, reaching out to put a hand on Magnus’ shoulder. “We don’t know it’s Asmodeus. There is no evidence of that whatsoever.”

Magnus scoffed. “Would you truly be here if you believed that? If you thought there was some other answer?”

“When I learned of what was happening, I do have to admit it sounded similar to what you told me when you first got to England. There are other explanations.” Ragnor tried to keep some hope in his voice, even though he knew it was futile. He was far from being the most hopeful person in the world. “We cannot assume it’s Asmodeus.”

“As if it could be anyone else.” Magnus sneered.

“I am here, because you are the person who knows the most about breaking soulbonds.”

Magnus straightened at that, his eyes snapping up to meet Ragnor’s. “No.”

“Magnus, we need you at the Spiral Labyrinth-”

“I think it is time for you to leave, Ragnor.” Magnus’ voice was cold and hollow.

“There are others at risk-”

"Ragnor.” Magnus said. “I cannot do this job.”

Ragnor looked at his friend, the way that Magnus had started trembling and gone completely pale. He knew how hard it had been for Magnus to start over in the Mundane world, how he had mourned for Scoutijn, for Foscharina, but also for all of the future loves that he had decided he would not pursue.

“I understand, Magnus.”

As much as Magnus’ knowledge could be helpful, Ragnor knew that he would never ask his friend to go through that pain again. “If there is anything I can do…” Ragnor trailed off, knowing that Magnus understood what was being offered. Ragnor had sheltered him when he had first come back, when he had needed time and space to put himself back together after Asmodeus had shattered everything that Magnus had ever hoped for.

“Thank you,” Magnus said slowly, “I think this is something I need to take care of on my own.”

Ragnor started at that, “No, Magnus, this is not for anyone to do alone.”

Magnus gave a bitter laugh. “He is my father, is he not?”

“We don’t know that.” Ragnor repeated.

“How many more will die because they could have loved me?” Magnus asked softly. He stood and walked away from Ragnor, turning to stand by the window and staring out at the skyline of New York. “I can stop this.”

“Magnus, what are you planning to do-”

“Do let me know what you turn up at the Spiral Labyrinth, will you?” Magnus asked, clearly dismissing his friend.

“Magnus, please, don’t do anything that you might regret.”

“Sometimes I fear that regret is all I will ever have.” Magnus said, still speaking to the window. “You should go. They will need you if they’re trying to figure out how these Soulmarks are being traced.”

“Magnus.” Ragnor said, clearly worried and unwilling to leave when Magnus was in such a state.

“I will take care of my end of things.” Magnus said. His voice was quiet, but it seemed to echo through the empty space of Magnus’ apartment.

Ragnor stood in Magnus’ living room, knowing both that Magnus shouldn’t be alone, but also that staying would only cause Magnus to grow more defensive and distant. “I will come see you again tomorrow.” He finally said.

“There’s no need.” Magnus said.

The lie of that statement was so patently obvious that Ragnor almost managed to find it amusing. “There is a need, Magnus. You have so many who care for you.”

Magnus nodded mechanically, but he had clearly shut down.

“Magnus, promise me you won’t do something foolish.”

“I won’t do anything worse than what I already have.”

Ragnor frowned at that. “Magnus-”

Magnus finally turned away from the window. “I will be _fine_ , Ragnor. I promise. I do, however, have a great deal of work to do, and you should return to the Spiral Labyrinth.”

Ragnor frowned, wanting to protest, but then he just huffed, knowing that he would get no further if Magnus had truly decided that the conversation was over. “If you do something stupid, it won’t be me you have to answer to.” Ragnor said. “It’s Catarina you’ll have to worry about. You know that she’d track you down to whatever afterlife you landed in and haunt you until you figured out a way to come back, if only to get some peace.”

Magnus managed the thinnest attempt of a smile, but that was enough for Ragnor. Magnus was hurting, but he would pull through.

Such was the curse of immortality: for every pain in life, there was nothing left except to simply weather it and continue on.

“I will let you know as soon as we know more.” Ragnor said, and then he summoned a portal and left Magnus alone, staring out the window.

  


_“Don’t ever let anyone take your love from you.”_

Scoutijn had said it so many years ago, but Magnus had felt it burned into his heart. He had understood. No one could take something that he didn’t have. Never in his worst nightmares would he have dreamed that he would have to go this far, but that was the risk of living: greater than the most incredible dreams and worse than the darkest nightmares.

 

It took three hours for Magnus to gather enough energy to leave his living room. It took five hours for him to find his notes from the time he had spent with Ragnor all those centuries ago, when he had been fresh from Edom and determined to know everything that there was to be discovered about Soulbonds.

It took thirty minutes for Magnus to find the exact spell that he was looking for and to alter it to suit his needs.

It took a single minute to call his power forward, then to throw it out into the world. Every breath was fire and electricity, and Magnus gave himself over to it. He let himself sink into his magic until he no longer existed as a person; he let himself flow through the air and catch in the ley lines, let himself tap into the threads of power that knotted the world together.

The words were simple and clear. The motions felt nearly instinctive.

Magnus reached out to cover the entire world, and then slid through it. It was a mirror of the spell he’d cast before, but nothing new. After all, he had taken the name Bane for a reason.

It took a single breath, and Magnus banished every Soulmark that would ever have been meant to match his own.

 

It took five minutes for Magnus to come back to himself, then two hours of sobbing until he managed to cry himself to sleep.

  
  


~~~ OUTSIDE OF A FIRE IN HUDSON HEIGHTS ~~~

 

Jace could barely see through his tears as he struggled to hold Alec’s weight.  _ It was all his fault _ . He had been the one to push for them to go. He had been the one to deny Alec’s request for turning in paperwork. He had been the one to declare that they wouldn’t need backup, and now Jace was terrified that Alec was going to die for it.

Jace’s hands were nothing but blisters. He had pulled his jacket off, wrapped his hands in the pathetic protection offered by leather, but it had been nothing in the face of the burning rubble that had collapsed onto Alec.

Jace hadn’t thought of pain, he had only thought of his brother: only there because of Jace, searching a burning building to find him. Jace had pulled Alec out of the fire and carried his best friend’s limp body out of the building. Jace had been desperate, searching for breath, a pulse, any signs of life.

Jace had torn Alec’s burnt shirt open and drawn iratzes, over and over and over. One over his heart, one on his throat, two more on his ribs over his lungs.

It had been the longest and most terrible moment of Jace’s life staring at the deep black of the marks and praying to any angels listening to let them activate.

Jace would never forget how it sounded when Alec had taken that first painful, shallow, gasping breath. Jace knew it would forever be one of the most beautiful sounds that he would ever hear in his life.

Ignoring the pain from the fire and the lingering heat in his stele, Jace had quickly drawn runes on the worst of Alec’s burns. Alec was injured far beyond the power of an Iratze, but Jace only had to get him back to the Institute. As soon as they were home, someone would be able to help.

Jace didn’t allow himself to think of any other outcomes.

Once he was more assured that Alec wasn’t about to stop breathing again, Jace began tracing his own runes: strength, stamina, endurance and courage. He drew speed and fortitude as well. He turned back to where Alec lay supine on the grass. The orange glow of the fire almost seemed gentle, except for how the shadows highlighted the blackened, charred skin where Alec had taken burns across his chest. Jace felt sick as he looked at the damage done to Alec’s skin. 

Alec had always loved his Soulmark. It was huge, stretching from his hip up to his ribs and then curling up his back. It was a wave in motion, tracing along the line of Alec’s shoulder blade to curl over the top of his shoulder and end with a playful swoop that dripped down from his collarbone. It was the blue of electricity and fire, the golden glow of sunset after a thunderstorm, and deep green of rainforests. Sometimes in the right lighting, the mark almost seemed to acquire a purple shimmer, like a dusting of frost - just enough to catch the light to add an infinitesimal sparkle.

There was hardly anything left of it now. Alec’s skin was red and black, charred and blistered. There was the smallest hint of colour still curling down his collarbone, but the rest of his Soulmark had been burned away.

Jace could only pray that the mark would come through. He couldn’t even begin to picture the devastation of losing his Soulmark. The last person he would ever wish that on was Alec.

Jace didn’t bother trying to stop his tears.

His own bullheaded foolishness had brought him to the worst night of his entire life. He had only himself to blame for it, and yet somehow it was Alec who was paying the price.

Carefully, Jace picked up Alec into a bridal hold. It was the only way he knew to carry someone so he could still keep an eye on their breathing.

Then, Jace began the worst journey of his life. He pulled Alec close and began to run towards the Institute.

  
  


In all of the years that Jace had been with Lightwoods, he had never seen Maryse cry. He had never seen her truly angry, and he had never seen her  _ afraid _ . When Jace arrived at the Institute later that night - so late it was nearly morning, the sky grey from the oncoming sun - the entire Institute was running on fear.

They had been gone all night. Isabelle was the one who had started looking for them, but it had been Hodge who had called them in as missing. From there, security tapes had been pulled. Alec and Jace might have been able to escape the Institute unseen by people, but cameras were a different matter. The video clearly showed them gathering weapons and sneaking out. It was easy enough from there to guess what had happened.

Then, reports of the fire had started to trickle in. A building, burning from demonfire, and two young Shadowhunters missing, nowhere to be found. Maryse and Robert had put every available Shadowhunter to the task of finding their missing children.

Finding them, however, was Maryse Lightwood’s worst nightmare realized. Jace stumbled to the doors of the Institute, bleeding, burned and black. Her heart stopped when she realized the burned body in his arms was her firstborn son. For the most terrifying moment of her life, she was certain that Jace was carrying a corpse, that she had lost Alec, not even to a battle, but to the mistakes of youth.

Then she saw as Alec twitched and whimpered, deeply unconscious but still unable to escape the pain.

Jace staggered under Alec’s weight. “Please help him.” He only managed a whisper, but it was enough.

Maryse shoved aside all of her feelings of fear - fear that he might not make it, fear of what could have happened if things had gone even the smallest bit different - and began barking orders. She needed the medical team prepped, and she needed the Silent Brothers alerted that their care would be needed. She set out an order for the High Warlock to be called as well. If Alec was beyond the help of the Silent Brothers then she would happily turn to Warlock magic, if it meant her son would be saved.

She forced herself to be emotionless as she watched the medical team rush to the door of the Institute with a gurney. She was the one to pry Jace’s hands free when he couldn’t make himself let go of his friend. She was the one who held him back when he tried to follow the med team as they rushed Alec back to medical center.

She forced herself to be cold when she looked at him. Jace was broken. He smelled heavily of smoke. His face was black from the ashes of the fire, except for the clear paths of tear tracks that ran down his cheeks. She would send him to the medical center too, but in a moment.

“You have done what you could. You cannot help him now.”

“No, you don’t understand, I can’t-”

“Jace.” Her voice was sharp as she cut him off. “You cannot go with him. He needs medical attention, and you would be in the way.”

More tears began to brim in his eyes as he stared down the hallway where Alec had been taken. A fire message appeared and Maryse snatched it out of the air. She had to fight back another wave of terror when she read the contents of the letter.

“Apparently, the High Warlock can’t be reached.” She didn’t even realize she was speaking out loud when she continued. “Let’s hope that the Silent Brothers can get here in time to help, then.”

Jace stepped forward, wavering on his feet. “What?”

Maryse blinked and then looked at the boy in front of her.

When Jace had come to them, he had been angry and hurt, lashing out at anyone who tried to offer him warmth. It had taken time, but eventually he had realized that he was safe with them. Maryse had never regretted taking him in. She could remember with the clearest joy in her heart the first time that she had heard Alec and Isabelle introduce Jace as their brother. There had been no hesitations, just the simple, unconditional acceptance of family.

If Jace hadn’t been the last of the Wayland line, she would have long ago asked if he wanted to take the Lightwood name.

Now, he stood before her, injured and desolate. The Silent Brothers had been summoned and would be arriving as soon as possible. She had done everything she could do for Alec. The help that her oldest son required was far beyond any skill that she possessed. What she could do was comfort Jace - her other son, in everything but name.

She had let her fear make her cold: rode through the terror with clarity until she had set all of the pieces in motion. That time was over, and all she had left was the panic that was still singing through her system.

“Jace,” she said softly, “Alec is very injured. We don’t have the resources here to deal with wounds like that.”

Jace stared up at her with horror reflecting in his eyes. “What?”

“The Silent Brothers are on their way. They’ll be able to help.”

Jace moved to wipe at his eyes only to hiss when the motion pulled at the burns on his hands. “What will the Silent Brothers do?” He asked.

Maryse shook her head. “I don’t know, Jace.” She looked down the hallway and then back to the young boy in front of her. “You need medical attention, too.”

Jace shook his head. “I deserve it.”

“You do not.” She said sharply, stepping forward. Gently, she placed her hands on his shoulders. “Jace. There is nothing you can ever do that will make you  _ deserve _ to be hurt. Do you understand?”

Jace replied with an affirmative answer, but Maryse could see the truth. She made a note of the incident. She would try to speak with him about it again later. In the meantime, she would keep an eye on him. No son of hers would ever deserve to be in pain.

“Come with me, Jace.” She said softly. “Let me take you to the medical center. You do need to get those looked at.”

“Alec-”

Maryse cut him off firmly, “Alec is in the best place he can be right now.” Then, she realized she had an opening and she pounced on it. “If we head to medical, we’ll be updated on Alec’s condition as soon as anyone knows more. You can get your burns looked at while we wait.”

Jace frowned, but nodded, letting Maryse steer him through the Institute and towards the medical center.

They had only been in the infirmary for a few short minutes when the Silent Brothers began streaming in. Jace couldn’t help but flinch back from the soundless way that they moved. He had never been particularly comfortable around Silent Brothers, and he didn’t expect that would ever truly change.

The Silent Brothers seemed to be conversing amongst themselves until one of them broke free from the group and glided across the floor. He came to a stop in front of Maryse and Jace.

“If we are to help him,” the Silent Brother intoned, “we must take him immediately to bathe in the Waters of the Righteous.”

“That will save him?” Jace asked, fear obvious in his voice.

“We are not the ones to decide. The Waters of the Angels will heal those who are worthy.”

Maryse put a hand on Jace’s shoulder to silence any protest he might have had. “Thank you, Brother, for giving my son this chance. If there is a way to help him, please do it.”

“We cannot guarantee his survival.” The Silent Brother said again.

Maryse glanced over at the bed where Alec was currently lying as the med team swarmed around him, doing their best to prevent permanent damage taking hold. “There is no guarantee of that if you do not take him, either.” She looked back up at the Silent Brother. “If the waters are his best chance, then take him.”

The Silent Brother gave a slight bow before turning and gliding back to his peers. From there it was a flurry of motion and only a few seconds later, a portal had appeared, and Alec was being wheeled through on the gurney.

Jace struggled, trying to follow, but Maryse held him back. “You need to trust, Jace.”

He turned to her with betrayal on his face. “They said he might not come back!”

“Alec is strong.” Maryse said softly, watching as the last of the Silent Brothers disappeared through the portal. “This is his best chance.”

The portal closed, leaving nothing but an empty medical room.

One of the med team approached them slowly. “Mrs. Lightwood, it appears as though Mr. Wayland is also in need of medical attention.”

Maryse sat up at being addressed. “Yes, that he does.”

“No.” Jace said, curling up closer to Maryse, “Please, please don’t leave me here, please, I - I promise I’ll be good, I won’t- Please don’t-”

Maryse broke through Jace’s panic, shushing him softly. “I’ll be right here the whole time. I promise.” Her heart broke. She hadn’t heard panic from Jace in years. She would need to get the story of what happened from him at some point, but it could wait.

Alec was gone, and the only way she could help him was to pray that he would somehow pull through his ordeal intact. 

Jace was curled into her side and shaking.

One of her sons was fighting for his life and entirely out of her reach. Her other son was sitting next to her, and Maryse vowed that she would be there for Jace in all of the ways that she couldn’t be there for Alec. 

She ran a hand through Jace’s hair before leaning down so it was easier to meet his eyes. “You need to be strong so you can help Alec fight when he gets back. He’ll need you. Can you do that?”

Jace’s lip wobbled and more tears spilled from his eyes, but he managed to hold Maryse’s gaze and nod. “I can do that.” His voice was soft and scratchy from smoke.

“For Alec.” She reiterated.

Jace nodded in agreement. “For Alec.”

This time, when the medical technician reached for his burned hands, Jace reached back and let himself be healed.

The whole time that Jace was in the infirmary, drinking potions, having healing salves spread onto his skin, he kept repeating to himself a mantra. 

 

He would be strong. 

 

For Alec.

  
  



	5. Steps to Recovery

~~~~ LATER THAT MONTH ~~~

  
  
  


Alec had no idea how long he’d been in medical care, when he’d finally snapped. He was constantly surrounded by people. They were always talking, always telling him to be quiet, to  _ calm down _ , but none of them seemed to have any idea about  _ what had happened to Jace _ .

The last thing that Alec remembered was smoke, fire, and seeing Jace at the end of the hallway. How did anyone expect him to calm down when no one would tell him if his brother was even  _ alive _ ?

There were three medics in his room when Alec truly started to fight back. He fought them off, screaming. Pain shot through him like every inch of his skin was exposed nerves, but he couldn’t stop. Physical pain was meaningless. His family was everything. Alec kept fighting, kept screaming for Jace until one of the medics appeared with a needle, and Alec was once again caught in the artificial lethargy of sedatives.

The next time he woke up, his entire family was in the room. Isabelle and Jace were playing memory games with Max. His mother was sitting next to the bed, holding Alec’s hand in hers and reading from an old, leather-bound book. His dad was seated next to her, consumed by whatever paperwork he’d compiled onto a clipboard. Alec could barely believe it.

“Jace?” Alec could hear how rough his voice was, but he didn’t care.

All movement in the room stopped as soon as Alec spoke, but then there was a rush. Izzy, Jace and Max scrambled towards his bed. They tried to crawl on, and Alec was taken by an all-consuming, white wave of pain as they accidentally touched his damaged body.

“Children.” Maryse snapped, and they backed away, having to content themselves with settling around the bed instead of on it. She turned back to Alec, and he could see the shine of tears in her eyes.

Alec blinked slowly at the foreign sight. “Mom?”

“Oh, my baby.” She said, shaking her head, trying to choke back her tears. “Alec, I was so afraid I’d lost you.”

Alec glanced around at his family. “What happened?”

His mother took a sharp breath like she’d been cut. Jace looked away, guilt curling his shoulders. It was his father who finally broke the silence.

“It seems that you and Jace thought it would be a good idea to go on an unsanctioned mission by yourselves, without telling anyone where you were going, checking your intel, or alerting anyone of the Institute to your plan.”

Alec winced at the summary.

“You nearly got yourselves killed.” His father said, raising an eyebrow.

Alec tried to swallow at the rising tide of shame and guilt that was rising in his chest.

“I told you,” Jace cut in, sounding upset and angry, “this was  _ my fault _ .”

“It took both of you to get into this situation.” Robert said. “It’s only right that both of you share the blame.”

Alec could feel the way that Maryse tightened her grip on his hand, and the look of pain in her eyes was too much for Alec to handle. “I’m sorry.” He said softly.

“Oh, Alec.” Maryse said softly, lifting a hand up to brush his hair from his face. “We just want you to be  _ careful _ . There’s a reason that we have the rules that we do.”

Alec could see the emotion in her eyes, and he turned his gaze to the bed he was in. “I know.”

“If you know,” Robert said, “then you should also know all of the many,  _ many _ reasons that it was a bad idea.”

Alec nodded, knowing his father was correct. Jace was okay, and everything else was his own fault. He should never have let Jace go. But he had. Now it was his job to take responsibility for his actions. He felt like he could still feel phantom heat against his skin, but that was his punishment.

If he had done better, he wouldn’t be there in the first place. It was his own failure that had ended in injury. It was only right that he had to suffer through the pain of it.

 

The first few weeks he barely remembered: his recollection was a hazy blur, flashes of pain and water, an oxygen mask strapped to his face as he was left submerged in rushing water. He remembered electrifying shocks of cold and heat, followed always,  _ always _ by more pain. He could remember being lifted from a stream in a cave, the ringing sound of Silent Brothers speaking into his mind. 

His recollection of waking up in the medical center in Idris was only a little more clear. His limbs had been bound to the bed so he couldn’t dislodge the wet, soaking bandages that were wrapped around his body. He could smell the sharp scent of whatever healing concoction had been embedded into his dressings, but he couldn’t place it. It was sharp and cold, piercing through his nose and feeling cold through to his lungs when he took a deep breath.

There had been machines beeping and he had IV’s in both of his arms. Every time he woke enough to try and ask where he was, what had happened,  _ was Jace okay? _ He was simply hushed by whoever was looking after him and dosed with sedatives again.

Now, he had finally been cleared to be released back to New York. He still had a long way to go until he was back at his previous health, but Alec would finally get to be back with his family. Being isolated from his siblings for the past fortnight had been the most difficult part of his recovery by far.

A lec missed the way that Jace would make the dumbest jokes that Alec had ever heard, and the joy that would shine in Jace’s eyes, even though he was the only one laughing at his own so-called punchlines. He missed the way that Isabelle would come sit with him on long nights when he was slated for the overnight shift watching security monitors in the Ops center. They would talk about whatever books they were reading at the time, or about training and strategies. The best nights where the ones when they talked all night, but their conversations were about nothing at all. He missed Max’s constant questions about anything and everything, and the way that he always seemed happy to listen to Alec talk, even if Alec had no idea how to answer.

The New York Institute was  _ home _ , and Alec couldn’t wait to go back.

 

His training regimen for the next few weeks was going to be nothing short of torturous, but the medical staff in Idris had said that he was expected to make a full recovery. The Silent Brothers had gotten to him in time, and though his treatment had been extreme, it had also been successful.

Alec rolled his shoulders slowly, feeling the stretch and pull of his weakened muscles and healing skin. It was the good, fresh kind of hurt that meant he was getting better, and Alec reveled in it. Gently, he reached for the tape on his side that was holding the gauze of his bandages in place.

One of the medical technicians had said they would be by to teach him how to wrap his own bandages. Once he could do his own bandages to their satisfaction, he would be on his way home.

Alec moved slow, not wanting to set back any of the progress from the recovery of his wounds. With steady hands, he slowly unwrapped the bandages from around his torso.

He had barely gotten started when he froze in horror.

There, by his left hip, was only smooth, clear, pale skin. Where there should have been the beginning of his Soulmark, the first dark curl of blue, and instead there was only the fresh pink of healing skin.

Any rational thought fled from Alec’s mind. Being careful wasn’t important. He tried to scratch at the cotton gauze, but it didn’t budge. Fear swamped Alec’s thoughts, drowning out everything except the absolute raw terror of losing his Soulmark. Frantic, he pulled on his bandages, desperate to get them off of his body as quickly as possible.

Far too slowly, his skin was revealed. With every layer of gauze that Alec removed, the cruel, uncaring truth of it became more and more clear. Finally, when all of the used dressing was wadded into a pile on the floor, Alec lost any shred of hope he’d managed to cling to. 

He stared down at the pale, clear skin of his chest and felt his heart break.

Alec had spent so long staring at his mark, tracing the rich colours with his fingertips. Now it was gone. When he was young, his mark had been his joy: the bright swirls of it were a counterpoint to the dark stone of the Institute. As he’d gotten older, Alec had begun to notice the beauty of some of his classmates. It was the way that his eyes strayed to the men that had kept Alec quiet.

Recently, his mark had been a symbol of hope. Even if he was broken and couldn’t make himself feel the way he was supposed to. Even if Alec was wrong, dreaming of what it would be like to hold hands with another boy, he still had his mark. Somewhere out there, he still had a person who would match him like no one else.

Until now.

Now, Alec only had failure in his past, and clear skin for his future.

 

When Alec was alone, he had spent long mornings letting his mind wander to what his soulmate would be like. He wondered what the Soulmark of his match would look like.

He hoped it was colourful. He hoped that it showed everything he wanted to be. He knew that his siblings called him boring, but he hoped that the mark on his soulmate would be more than that. He hoped that it was beautiful, staining the skin of his soulmate, that it would be something his soulmate would love, a part of them that they would take pride in and want to show off.

Now, he could only assume that the person who would have been his match also woke up to no mark. Alec shuddered. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone. His fingers traced over his skin and a dark, insidious thought crept into his mind.

What if his soulmate hadn’t woken up with no Soulmark: what if they had died in the fire that night?

It would certainly make a sick kind of sense. Alec could feel a hysterical sob fighting to break free of his lungs, but he bit it back. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. He couldn’t think about it, if his soulmate had been there, waiting for him, there in that building in Hudson Heights. Only, he hadn’t been good enough, hadn’t been fast enough. There must have been someone he had missed in the fire- his  _ match _ he had somehow missed in the fire, and now he would pay for it. Alec had failed his soulmate in the greatest way possible, and now the universe had decided he didn’t get another chance.

Whatever Alec had done the night of the fire had truly been the wrong thing. Not only had it nearly cost Jace his life, gotten them both a full year of probation and set Alec back months of training, but whatever decision he’d made that night was enough to shatter his soulbond.

It was common enough for Soulmarks to change. For one to disappear entirely was truly rare.

Alec traced a hand along the blank skin where his mark had once been. He had known that he would be paying for the decisions made that night. He had never imagined that the cost would have been his Soulmark.

Alec spent a single moment wishing with everything he had that he could go back in time and change that night. Then he closed his eyes and drew his hands into fists.

What he wanted didn’t matter.

That much was obvious, even if nothing else was.

Alec took a deep breath and forced himself to lock his pain away. It was his penance. It was only right. He had failed his soulmate. He didn’t just  _ get another one _ . That wasn’t how anything worked, much less his life.

It was for the best, if he looked at it logically.

If he never had a soulmate, it wouldn’t matter what they looked like. He would never fall in love with a mundane or a downworlder and have to deal with his life as a Shadowhunter and what it would mean for his relationship.

Part of him had always known that he wouldn’t get to be with his match. He would have needed to reject his soulmate. Alec needed to be the perfect Shadowhunter, and that meant following the expected paths.

Losing his Soulmark was for the best. He would never have been allowed to follow his heart anyway. Now, there wouldn’t even be a temptation.

_ It was for the best _ , he told himself. Maybe if he kept repeating it, someday it would mean something. Alec pulled his hand away from his skin and dug his fingers into the bedding at his side. It was for the best.

He felt like he’d lost any shred of hope he’d ever had for a future that included happiness.

It was for the best.

  
  
  
  
  


It was Maryse who saw it first. His very first night back at the New York Institute she went to his room and offered to help him re-wrap his bandages. Alec agreed easily. He had learned how, but he knew that it would be easier for her to keep the gauze in straight lines as it wound behind his back.

She let out a soft gasp when she saw the pale skin that existed where there had once been colour.

"Oh, Alec,” She said softly, “when did this happen?”

Alec swallowed hard as he felt her cool fingers trace along his side. “It was like this when I woke up.”

She paused at that, and then moved to sit on the bed next to him. She took his shoulders so they were facing each other directly. “Alec, I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but  _ there will be others _ . Marks change all the time.”

“They don’t disappear, though.” Alec spat bitterly.

“It just means that your next one will be that much better.” Maryse said firmly, never breaking eye contact. “Your match is out there, just waiting to realize it. The day will come when you’ll wake up and your new mark will take your breath away.”

Alec could feel himself losing the battle with the grief he’d been keeping at bay. He choked on it as he tried to imagine having the hope of getting a new mark. He could feel his shoulders shaking, and the next thing he knew he was curled against his mother, sobbing for the soulmate that he would never meet.

 

 

Izzy was the next to find out. She had long been fascinated with medicine, and when she had asked to see Alec’s scars, he never thought to refuse her. They were in his room sitting on his bed as she traced the lines on his arms, where the pink of new skin was quickly fading to match the light pale of the rest of him.

“How did this not scar?”  She asked, awed and curious at the same time.

Alec shook his head. “I really have no idea.”

Isabelle looked up at him for a moment. “I saw you that night, you know. I’ve never been so scared. You looked like you were dead.”

Alec frowned, then pulled her in for a hug. “I’m not dead. I’m right here, and I’m just fine.”

“You didn’t see it, Alec, there was no way anyone could have survived that, you - you-” She shook her head and curled into his chest, tightening her arms around him. “You are never allowed to do that again, do you hear me?”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“You don’t get to leave me, Alec.”

“I won’t, Izzy.” Alec repeated. “I promise. I’m always going to be here for you, no matter what.” He tucked her head under his chin and held her close. “There’s nothing in the world that could keep me away.”

They both knew that it was a lie, but it was one they needed. Alec didn’t comment when Isabelle’s fingers tightened in his shirt and her shoulders shook as his collar got damp. He just held his sister and let himself be grateful that he got to have the moment.

It was still so strange to him. He felt removed from the actual injury itself. He didn’t remember most of the night. He didn’t know what he’d looked like, couldn’t remember what had apparently been weeks of intensive healing from the Silent Brothers. In some ways, it was easier for him. He had been the one to recover, but by the time he had woken up, the worst of it had been over. He remembered heat and  _ pain _ , but not much more than that. By the time he’d come back to himself, he’d been transferred to Idris, healing but whole.

He couldn’t imagine what he must have looked like, but from the hushed and broken way people stepped around it, as if to mention it directly would summon it back, Alec knew it must have been horrific.

Alec let Izzy cry for as long as she needed to, let her cling as tightly as she needed to for her to convince herself that he truly wasn’t going anywhere. She finally pulled away from him, sniffling loudly and wiping at her eyes.

Really all she was doing was smearing more of her dark eye makeup around her face, but Alec was too kind to point that out.

She gave him a weak, watery smile and then stopped. She brought her hand to her face as her mouth dropped open, and she tried unsuccessfully to stifle her giggles. “Oh, Alec, your shirt!”

Alec looked at her in confusion and then glanced down. There were black streaks smeared across his shirt from where Izzy had been hiding her face. Alec grabbed the fabric and pulled it away from his body to try and get a better look at it.

“I liked this shirt.” He said a bit sadly. He didn’t care much for fashion but he always felt like he looked good in green. This was one of the few shirts he owned that was a light enough colour for the black to stand out. It was the very reason he didn’t wear it much. Shadowhunters were hard on clothes.

He had thought it would be safe when he was staying in the Institute all day. Apparently he was wrong.

“You’re acting like it’s ruined forever.” Izzy said, crossing her arms and looking unimpressed.

“It’s not?” Alec asked, looking up at her.

Izzy laughed, “Dear brother, I know how to get makeup out of  _ anything _ .” She held a hand out. “If you give it to me, I’ll fix it for you.”

“You’re my favourite sister, Isabelle.” Alec said, smiling at her beatifically.

She glared at him, not dignifying his comment with a response. She snapped her fingers and opened her palm again. “You have fifteen seconds before the offer disappears.”

Alec grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it off, dropping it into Isabelle’s waiting hand.

 

The shirt dropped to the ground as Isabelle stared in horrified shock. “Alec, your Soulmark.”

It was the first time that Alec could remember ever feeling self-conscious about his body. He forced himself to face his sister, even though his instincts were screaming at him to curl up and hide. Instead he set his shoulders back and raised his chin, daring her to have something to say about it.

Isabelle could only watch in mounting sadness as she watched her brother physically brace himself for whatever conversation he was expecting. She could see the tension in his jaw and pain that was shimmering in his eyes and she knew that she wouldn’t be another person he had to explain himself to.

They were siblings, they were friends, but more than anything, they were safe harbours for each other. There were things that couldn’t be explained to anyone who hadn’t grown up as a New York Lightwood. It was an unspoken language built from years of growing up side-by-side. Izzy didn’t need Alec to speak to know that he didn’t want to discuss it.

Isabelle frowned. She wasn’t going to ask Alec to go into it, but there was one thing she had to know. “When?”

Alec chewed on his words for a while before he managed to actually get them out of his mouth. He faced the wall and his voice was flat. “It was gone when I woke up.”

Isabelle closed her eyes at his response. This was nothing she could help with. She stepped forward and put her hand on Alec’s shoulder - the one that had once been covered in colour, shimmering with green and gold and promise. “If you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here for you.”

Alec turned to her, clearly startled that he wasn’t getting the interrogation he had been expecting. Relief and gratitude flashed through his eyes as he turned to look at her. “Thank you.” He was serious when he spoke. He knew the offer was genuine and that she truly would be there for him if he ever needed to talk about anything. It was part of who they were.

He couldn’t imagine ever wanting to talk to anyone about the loss of his Soulmark, but he knew that if he did, Isabelle would be the first person he would go to.

“I love you.” His voice was soft in the quiet of his room.

Isabelle sighed softly. “I love you too, big brother.” She knew there was no point in asking him to talk if he wasn’t ready.

Isabelle turned and glanced at Alec out of the corner of her eye, then decided to lighten the mood. She snapped her shoulders back, straightening her spine. She did a shuffle over, and then hooked his fallen shirt on the toe of her shoe. She gave a quick kick to get it into the air, then tossed it higher off her knee. She spun and then managed to catch the falling shirt on the heel of her shoe. She kicked her leg back as fast as she could, making the shirt fly up to land neatly on her shoulder.

Alec was laughing at her antics and she grinned back. “You wish you were this cool.” She said with a grin, waggling an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, yeah.” Alec said, trying to get his words out through his persisting laughter. “Juggling with a dirty t-shirt is the coolest thing in the whole world.”

Isabelle just smiled. “It is when I do it.” With that, she flipped her hair and walked out of Alec’s room. The sound of his laughter followed her out.

She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to wake up one morning to find her Soulmark gone. But her brother was the strongest person she had ever met, and he was happy. She walked down the hall and let herself smile.

They were going to be just fine.

  
  
  
  


Jace was the last of Alec’s family to find out. It wasn’t that Alec was avoiding his brother, but more that Jace was avoiding Alec.

When he had been healing in Idris, Jace had come with the family to visit as often as he could. They’d seen each other a few times a week, at least. It had changed when Alec got back to New York.

Alec would walk into a room, still moving delicately and healing from his injuries. Jace would take one look at him and flee. On some level, Alec was aware that Jace was blaming himself. Every time he was faced with the extent of Alec’s injuries, he lost himself in guilt.

Being aware of Jace’s motivation didn’t make it hurt any less. Alec had spent so long being afraid for Jace that he hadn’t quite managed to shake the feeling yet. He had run into the fire for Jace, and then his hazy, pain-filled memories were shot through with worry. He hadn’t known if Jace had even made it out alive. He’d spent all those weeks in pain and no one had told him anything.

Every waking moment that Alec could remember had been spent searching, begging, pleading for anyone to tell him anything about his brother.

Now that Alec was back in New York, it should have been fine. It should have been him and Jace and Izzy, banding together as it always had been.

Instead, Jace was running.

It was  a quiet, sunny afternoon when Alec finally managed to catch up with his brother. When Alec heard the sound of piano echoing through the hallways of the Institute, he knew immediately that it was his chance. He was quiet as he walked through the familiar hallways of the Institute. It wasn’t that he was trying to trap Jace. He just wanted to be able to talk, wanted to see him. Alec  _ needed _ to spend time with Jace, needed to see him, needed to be close. Alec needed to convince his brain that Jace was alive, that Jace was fine.

To do that, Alec just needed time with his brother.

Alec was quiet as he eased open the door to the room where Jace was seated at the piano. He knew that Jace had complicated feelings about the instrument and only tended to play when he was trying not to think of other things. Closing the door silently, Alec simply leaned back on the wall and waited. He was in no hurry. 

Simply being in the room was helping, seeing Jace alive and well. There were still echoes of the fear, whispers that if he turned his back, Jace would disappear, never to return. Alec closed his eyes and focused on the sound of the piano. Jace was here. Jace was fine. The fire was out and they were both back in New York. Things were as they were meant to be. Alec knew it in his head. He just couldn’t seem to make himself  _ feel  _ it.

Slowly, the song wound down to its end, the final soft, slow notes drifting through the air. Silence overtook the room but neither boy seemed to be in a hurry to break it. Alec didn’t say anything, didn’t even move. He simply stayed where he was, leaning back against the wall by the door. The late afternoon sun spilled through the window, casting long shadows and painting everything else bronze. Dust motes flashed gold as they slowly spun through the air.

“I thought you were gonna die that night.” Jace said softly, finally breaking the hush of the room.

“I didn’t.” Alec said.

Jace shook his head. “You didn’t see what you looked like. When-” Jace choked and looked away, staring at his hands as they rested on the keys of the piano. “When I got you out you weren’t breathing.”

Alec stepped forward, crossing the room. “Jace, you saved my life that night.”

“Nobody was supposed to get hurt.” Jace forced the words out, though his voice was hoarse and breaking. “ _ You _ weren’t supposed to get hurt.”

“How many people would have died if we hadn’t been there?” Alec asked.

Jace looked up at him. “Alec, that is not the point-”

“It  _ is _ the point, Jace! This is our job! This is what we’re supposed to do!”  Alec reached out and put his hand on Jace’s shoulder. “We knew the risks. It is our job to stand between demons and mundanes.”

Jace swallowed, on the verge of tears. “The Silent Brothers took you away, and they wouldn’t tell us anything. Not even Maryse! I heard her calling, every day, trying to see if you were okay.”

“Jace, I  _ am _ okay.” Alec said. “Hey, scoot over.”

Jace sniffed but moved, leaving room for Alec to join him on the piano bench.

“I’m right here, Jace.”

“You almost weren’t-”

Alec cut him off, “I miss you.”

Jace blinked at him in confusion.

“You think it was better for me? The last thing I remembered was you in that hallway. I woke up, no one would tell me what happened, or where you were, or if you were even alive!” Alec looked at Jace. “Now I’m back and you won’t even talk to me.”

Jace’s mouth dropped open. “No, Alec, it’s not like that-”

“What am I supposed to think, then? You leave the room every time I walk in.”

“I don’t know what to say!” Jace shouted, wiping at his eyes with the back of his wrist and sniffing desperately.

“We both made it out.” Alec said softly. “Say I didn’t lose my brother in the fire that night.”

Jace froze and then looked up at Alec. “No, Alec, of course not!”

“I couldn’t take it if the fire meant I lost you, too.”

“Never.” Jace vowed, reaching for Alec and pulling him into a fierce hug. “You will never lose me, Alec.”

There was a fire in his voice that Alec could practically feel. They stayed that way for a long time, clinging to each other until they were finally ready to move apart. 

“Jace, that night, when you pulled me out.”

“Yeah?”

“I - did you see-” Alec cut himself off, looking away and chewing on his lip as he tried to the words together that he wanted to say.

“Alec, what is it?” Jace pushed.

“You pulled me out that night.” Alec spoke slowly, staring across the room at nothing at all. “You said I looked like I was dying.”

“You weren’t breathing, Alec.”

“But I was - I still… When you pulled me out…” Alec took a deep breath then turned to face his brother. “Jace, I still had my Soulmark, right?”

“So much of it was burned. I’m so sorry, Alec.” Jace frowned. “Has your mark changed?”

Alec clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. “No. It’s nothing.”

“Alec,” Jace said, anxiety sliding into his voice, “Alec, what’s wrong?”

Alec stood abruptly and stepped away from the piano bench. “It’s nothing, Jace.”

“Did something happen to your Soulmark?” Jace asked, stepping forward, following as Alec tried to move away.

Alec shook his head and clenched his fists, still refusing to look at his brother. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Alec.” Jace said, falling into anger in the face of Alec’s reticence. “What are you talking about.” It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.

“It’s gone, Jace.” Alec took another slow, deep breath, his gaze never leaving the far wall of the room. “It was gone when I woke up.”

“What? What are you talking about? Marks don’t just disappear.”

Alec turned to face Jace then. “Mine did.” He reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up.

Jace could only stare in horror and plain, pale skin of Alec’s stomach, where there used to vibrant swirls of colour. “How- how does that even happen?”

Alec barked out a bitter laugh and dropped his shirt. “Marks change. There’s no reason they can’t just disappear.”

“I’ve never heard of one just disappearing.”

Alec swallowed hard. “Neither have I.”

“What are you going to do?”

Alec frowned and looked at Jace in confusion. “I’m not going to do anything. There’s nothing to be done. No one can change a Soulmark.”

Jace stared at his brother. “We can.”

Alec squinted at him. “No, we can’t.”

“We always said we were gonna be parabatai, Alec.”

“What-”

“We can talk to the Silent Brothers. We can do it now. There’s no reason to wait-”

“No, Jace.” Alec cut him off, voice cold. “No.”

“Alec, we can do this.” Jace reached for him, but Alec shook him off.

“No.” Alec repeated, “Not like this. Not  _ because _ of this.”

“Alec-”

“I need to go.” Alec said, stepping farther out of Jace’s reach. Turning abruptly, he walked to the exit, but paused when he had his hand on the doorknob. He looked back at Jace, “I know I’m still recovering, but I miss training with you.”

Jace nodded, hearing everything that Alec wasn’t saying. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”

Alec gave him a strained smile. “Good.”

 

Jace watched as Alec walked away and vowed to himself that he would do whatever it took to make things right. It was his fault that Alec’s Soulmark was gone. He was the one who had pushed for them to go out that night. Out of everyone that Jace had ever met, Alec was the person who deserved a soulmate, deserved the happiness that came from meeting someone with a matching mark. If Jace had been the one to take that away from Alec, the very least he could do would be to go through with becoming his parabatai.

Maybe Jace couldn’t do anything about Alec’s Soulmark. He couldn’t give Alec a new Soulmark. Jace would pin his soul to Alec’s in a heartbeat, though. They would be as close to matched Soulmarks as Jace could get them. The parabatai bond wasn’t the same as Soulmarks, but it was the best that Jace could do.

It would never be able to make up for Alec losing his Soulmark, but it would be a start. Jace knew how much Alec had loved his Soulmark, how much Alec had wanted to meet his Soulmate. Jace had taken that away. Jace couldn’t imagine the desolation of learning that a Soulmark had disappeared, but he knew that he would never let Alec be alone.

They had always wanted to be parabatai, and now, Jace was even more determined to make sure it happened.

  
  
  
  


_ ~~~SEVERAL WEEKS LATER~~~ _

 

Alec had finally been cleared from therapy to return to his training, and he had never been so delighted to be doing basic drills. It had been months of careful movement and constant struggle simply to get back his range of motion. He was still far from rebuilding the muscle mass he’d lost, but it would come with time. He knew it would probably be at least a month before he was able to get back to the draw-weight of his old bow, but he would get there.

Hodge was watching, keeping an eye out for even the slightest flaw in form, but also for the first hints that Alec was starting to push too hard. If he were to re-injure himself it would be disastrous for his recovery. They had been at it for hours, though. Hodge had been calling out drills, walking Alec through sets of dynamic stretches.

Alec pulled off his t-shirt and wiped his face with it.

Hodge could only stare in horrified silence. It was the first time he’d seen the oldest Lightwood child shirtless since before the night of the fire. The Soulmark that had once taken up half of his torso was entirely gone.

“Alec.”

Alec looked up with a smile, looking happy if more than a bit tired. The smile slipped from his face as soon as he saw Hodge’s expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Alec, I am so sorry about your mark.”

Any hint of concern was wiped from Alec’s face to be replaced with the coldest look of indifference that Hodge had ever seen. “What is there to be sorry about.” Alec’s voice was flat. 

“Alec…” Hodge trailed off. He wanted to protest, but there was something about the dead look in Alec’s eyes that made him pause. Hodge frowned, but shook it off. It wasn’t as if someone else’s Soulmark was his business anyway. “I still haven’t seen your staff work today. Can you keep going?”

Alec gave a look that Hodge thought was perhaps meant to be a smile, but only managed to be showing teeth. Alec glanced at the shirt that was still in his hand, as if contemplating putting it back on. He tossed the clothing aside, and walked over to the rack of training weapons.

Hodge watched as Alec took a ready stance and then slowly began to work through warm-ups. His movements were concentrated and precise, and it was then that Hodge realized that he was not seeing the Alec he had known from before. Alec Lightwood after the fire was someone entirely different.

Hodge could only hope that this new Alec hadn’t gotten his heart burnt out that night as well.

  
  



	6. Parabatai

_ ~~~~FOUR YEARS LATER~~~~~ _

  
  
  


“Alec! Alec, wait!” Jace called through the hallway when he saw Alec pass through. Jace quickly dropped his practice staff back on the rack before running after his brother. “Alec!” He called again once he was in the hallway.

Hearing him for the first time, Alec paused and turned. “Jace?”

Jace kept jogging to go stand next to him. “Alec, hey. I need to talk to you.”

“Is something wrong?” Alec frowned.

“No.” Jace said, grinning. “Maryse said she was going to Idris next week.”

“Okay…?” Alec gave Jace a questioning look, clearly not understanding the significance of the information.

“I want her to bring our petition to the Silent Brothers. We’re both of age  to become parabatai now. There’s no reason for them to deny us.”

Surprise washed over Alec’s face. “You’re serious.”

“Of course I am.” Jace said. “Alec, we’ve been planning this for years.”

“That was before-”

“Have you changed your mind?” Jace asked, clearly hurt by the idea.

Alec shook his head slowly, running a hand through his hair. “No, of course not, if it’s what you want, but-”

“Of  _ course _ this is what I want, Alec. I have always wanted this.” Jace paused. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

“We haven’t talked about it since…” Alec paused, wrapping his fingers into fists and then spreading them out again, “since before the fire.”

“Alec.” Jace said seriously, reaching over to put his hands on Alec’s shoulders. “That fire didn’t change how I feel. If anything, it made me even more sure. Alec, you know we’re meant for this. Even that night - if we had been parabatai, can you imagine how different things would have been? This is who we are. It always has been, always will be.” Jace looked into Alec’s eyes. “You’re my brother, Alec, my best friend. I want you to be my parabatai.”

Alec was at a loss in the face of Jace’s emotion. “I want that, too.” He finally managed to say.

The triumph in Jace’s grin seemed to radiate into the air around him. “What are we waiting for, then?”

“Jace…” Alec started, then stopped. He wanted so much to let himself get swept up in Jace’s enthusiasm. The joy shining from Jace’s eyes was palpable, but Alec just couldn’t feel it. Alec was caught in a mire of doubt that he couldn’t move past.  _ Yes _ , what he wanted more than anything was to have Jace as a parabatai.

Wanting didn’t make it a good idea. Want had nothing to do with what should be done, and even less to do with what was best for Jace.

Alec couldn’t find the strength within himself to turn Jace down. He couldn’t find the will to snuff the light of happiness from Jace’s voice. Because Alec was weak, and he was selfish. Instead of standing up to do the right thing, Alec simply stood by and watched. If he was a better person, he would have been able to turn Jace away, to convince his friend of the truth: they were better off alone. 

At least, Jace was better off alone. Alec couldn’t deny how desperately he wanted to be Jace’s parabatai, how desperately he wanted to soul connection to  _ anyone _ .

There was a reason that Alec didn’t have a Soulmark. He knew that the right thing to do was to keep himself away from other people - away from Jace, who had been through so much and worked so hard, and didn’t deserve to get bound to a destitute soul like Alec’s. If Alec were a better person, he would have found the strength to tell Jace no, for Jace’s own good.

Instead, Alec gave his best attempt at a smile as Jace pulled him in for a hug. He walked mechanically next to his best friend as they went to find to find Maryse. They would both need to sign the petition for her to bring it before the Clave and the Silent Brothers.

Alec signed his name at the bottom of the page requesting approval for a parabatai bond and he knew with unquestionable clarity why he had never gotten another mark: he didn’t deserve one.

The fact that he was clinging to the idea of a soulbond - to Jace, no less - that he was so desperate he was willing to drag others down with him was all the proof that Alec needed. He would never be able to have what he wanted, so he would trick innocent people into tying their lives to him. He would cling to false pretenses until his fingers bled, because he was far too much of a coward to tell the truth.

Alec should never have let it get this far, and he was too selfish to put a stop to it now.

Maryse walked them through the final steps of putting together their petition, telling them how proud she was and looking more happy than Alec had seen her in years. Jace never stopped smiling, his eyes sparkling with unsurpassed delight. 

Alec had taken the first step down a path that he knew he could never return from. There was no match in his future, no day when he would meet someone with a Soulmark that matched his. Instead, he would have this. He could never have more, should never allow himself to even wish for it. Alec knew that he was broken, and what he was getting was far more than he deserved. He knew that what he would be getting out of a parabatai bond was incomparably different to what Jace would be getting, and he knew that wasn’t fair to anyone.

Maryse put her seal on their petition, approving the match as Head of the Institute.

Alec tried to pretend a good person would have made the same decision.

  
  
  
  


 

~~~THE MORNING OF THE PARABATAI CEREMONY~~~

  
Alec was curled into the window of the alcove where he could best see the sun rising over the gardens of Idris. The parabatai ceremony was supposed to start as soon as the last traces of dawn had cleared. He should have been down with his family, with the Silent Brothers, with _Jace_ , waiting for the morning sun to shine through into the ceremonial chamber.

It’s where he wanted to be, without question. He wanted to be down with his family waiting on the sun. He wanted to be standing shoulder to shoulder with Jace, feeling like they were about to take this step together, towards who they’ve always dreamed they would become.

Instead, he was hiding in a hallway, unable to shake the feeling that all he was doing was sinking deeper into the lie of his life that he could never stop telling. Alec had understood for years that love didn’t get to be his future. He wouldn’t be getting married to the woman of his dreams, much less the match to his Soulmark. He didn’t even get to have a match at all.

It was different when the lie of his life only affected him. If he went through with the ceremony that was being prepared, then he would be dragging Jace into it too. Jace had never asked for that. Alec couldn’t warn him that he was about to be complicit in the lies that were slowly beginning to overtake Alec’s entire life.

He couldn’t even tell Jace the truth, to give him a fair chance to know what he was getting into.

Alec would be making that decision for both of them, simply by showing up, simply by existing. Jace would be implicated. He would be involved, and there was nothing Alec could do about it. How was it fair to commit Jace to that? To force him into the middle of the falsehoods that Alec built up every day?

How was it fair to bind himself to Jace’s soul, when his love for Jace was what made it impossible for him to have a mark in the first place?

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be downstairs?” Isabelle’s voice rang through the empty hallway.

Alec started, tearing his gaze away from where he had been looking out the window so he could turn to his sister. “What?”

She gave him an unimpressed look. “What do you mean ‘ _ what’ _ ? Downstairs? Where your parabatai ceremony is scheduled to be happening…” She trailed off and squinted out the window at the rising sun. “Probably within the next half-hour, at the very latest.” She turned back to Alec and raised an eyebrow. “So. What are you doing here?”

Alec opened his mouth, and then closed it. He had never had words for it, and he was hardly going to come up with any simply because Isabelle was asking. He ran a hand through his hair and stared at the floor. Anything that kept him from having to meet Isabelle’s eyes and see the disappointment that was undoubtedly clear on her face.

Isabelle’s heart broke as she watched her brother curl up into himself. She sighed and then moved to sit next to him. “Talk to me, big brother.”

“I don’t know if I can do this, Iz.”

“Alec, you and Jace have been talking about this for years. What happened?”

“I can’t- Iz, it isn’t  _ right _ .”

“It isn’t right? Alec, what are you talking about?”

“Izzy, I -” He cut himself off and then began again, with his voice barely more than a whisper. “Izzy, I think I’m in love with him.”

Isabelle could her jaw drop open as she processed her brother’s words. “Alec, what?”

Alec turned to her, and she could see the distress in his eyes.

“Iz, I think -” He paused, licking his lips, “I think that’s why I don’t have a Soulmark anymore.”

“You think you don’t have Soulmark, because you’re in love with  _ Jace _ ?”

“It makes sense!” Alec said, his voice nearly frantic with misery. “That’s why it didn’t just change, it disappeared. That’s why I don’t have a new one. I love him, and he - he doesn’t, he isn’t… he’s not like that.” Alec stared at the ground. “He’s not like me.”

Understanding suddenly dawned for Isabelle. It had never occurred to her that her oldest brother would be struggling with something like that. She took a moment, trying to figure out how to word her next question. She had to be delicate. She needed to be clear, but they were also in Idris. She knew how dangerous it could be for Alec’s career if they were overheard. “If it wasn’t Jace, would there be someone else?”

Alec frowned at her, squinting in confusion. “What?”

Isabelle pursed her lips and blew out a breath. “If it wasn’t Jace, would there be another boy?”

Alec stared at her in terrified shock. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Okay.” She said softly, scooting over so she could put her arms around Alec’s shoulders. “You can tell me, if there ever is.” She looked at him, “If there’s ever anyone. I’m here for you.”  

Slowly, he leaned into her embrace. “I think it would be.” He said softly, hiding his face in her hair. “There’s never been a girl.”

“Oh, Alec.” Isabelle closed her eyes and held her brother close, her heart breaking at his pain.

“It isn’t anyone else, though.” Alec said. “It’s Jace.”

Isabelle pulled away from him at that. She looked him in the eyes. “Alec, you know he doesn’t-”

“Of course I know! I know he doesn’t feel like that.” Alec cut her off, sharply. “I  _ do _ , though, Iz.”

“Alec…” Isabelle didn’t know what to say.

“That night, when he saved me from that fire, that was what changed. Of course I fell in love with him. He literally pulled me from a burning building!” Alec said, trying to make her understand through sheer force of will.

“The only reason he needed to pull you from a burning building was because you had already gotten out, and you went back in for him!” Isabelle reminded him.

“No, that’s just - it’s what put me on this path, Iz. After that, there was no way I couldn’t fall for him, so my Soulmark disappeared.” Alec explained. “I don’t have a match, because I love him and he’ll never love me back.”

Isabelle closed her eyes, needing a moment to work past Alec’s confidence that he would spend his entire life never being loved in return.

“That’s why, Isabelle.” Alec said. “I don’t- I can’t go in there and ask him to be my parabatai. He doesn’t know. How can I do that to him? He never asked for me to feel like this.”

“Is it better to abandon him, then?” Isabelle asked.

“What? Of course not!” Alec protested.

“Then what would you call this?”

“I’m trying to do the right thing!”

“Alec,” Isabelle said, “You two have been talking about becoming parabatai for years.”

“Maybe, but-”

“You’ve been talking about this from before you ever lost your Soulmark.” Izzy pointed out, “You’ve been wanting this for almost as long as you’ve known each other.”

“That was before-”

“Do you still want it?” Izzy asked. “Do you still want to be his parabatai?”

Alec clenched his jaw and turned away from her, looking wretched. “I want it more than anything, Iz.”

“Does he still want it?”

“He does, but Iz-”

“Alec, this is the only time you’ll ever get to do this. If you want to be Jace’s parabatai, you have to do it now.” Her voice was soft but serious. “This is going to be your only chance.”

“How can I do that to him, Izzy?”

She frowned. “Alec, he wants this.”

“He doesn’t know, though, he thinks I’m normal-”

“There is  _ nothing wrong with you _ , Alec.”

“But I-”

“Alec, do you trust Jace?”

Alec stopped to stare at her like she had started speaking a foreign language. “Of course I do.”

“You trust him with your life, right?”

" Izzy, of course-”

“Then why don’t you trust him when he says he wants this?”

Alec gaped at her. “I - I  _ do _ , but he doesn’t know what he’s saying yes to.”

“He’s saying yes to  _ you _ , Alec.” Izabelle shook her head. “Alec. You want this.”

“Yes, of course I do.”

“Does Jace want this?”

“Yes.”

Izzy crossed her arms in exasperation. “Then why are you still here?” 

Alec glanced at her before shifting his gaze to the floor. “What if I’m not good for him, Izzy?”

Isabelle paused. It was clear that this was truly what Alec was worried about. “You said you fell in love with him the night of the fire.”

“It must have been.” Alec said.

“Alec, that was years ago.”

“I know it was. What’s your point?”

Isabelle sighed and rolled her eyes. “Your feelings haven’t changed for him, over those past years.”

“No?” Alec said, clearly confused as to why it mattered.

“Alec, he has been there with you this whole time. He knows who you are. If you’ve been in love with him for the last four years,  _ he doesn’t care _ . He wants you as you are, right now.” She reached over to shove at Alec’s shoulder to make sure he was looking at her. “He asked you to be his parabatai  _ last week _ . He wasn’t asking the you that you were five years ago. He was asking you, as you are now. As the brother he’s grown up with, as the friend he talks to every day.”

Alec looked at her, but didn’t say anything.

“When was the last time you saw Jace do anything he didn’t want to do?” Izzy said with a wry grin.

Alec let out a huff of laughter. “Never.”

“Exactly.” Isabelle said, leaning back and smiling confidently. She knew her brother. He might get caught in his head sometimes, but he was going to be okay. “He wouldn’t ask you to be his parabatai if he didn’t mean it.” She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. “So are you going to trust him when he says he wants this?”

Alec looked at her for a long time before he finally sighed. “Yes.”

“Good.” Isabelle said, mostly managing to not sound smug. “So...what are you still doing here?” She stood from the bench and reached her hands out to help her brother up.

He took her hands, but once he was standing, he pulled her into a hug. “Thank you, Izzy.”

“I love you, Alec.” She said, hugging him back tightly.

“I love you, too.” He returned, before finally stepping away.

“Hey, Alec.”

“Yeah?”

“Just remember. Soulmarks might change. Your parabatai rune won’t.”

Alec nodded and gave her a small smile. “Thanks.” With that, he turned away from her and made his way to the stairs that would take him to the room where Jace would be waiting.

 

The sound of Alec’s footsteps had barely faded when the distinctive click of high heels sounded through the hallway. Isabelle turned and was shocked to see her mother.

“Mom? What are you doing here? I thought you were a witness for the parabatai ceremony?”

“I was looking for you, actually.” Maryse said, stopping several feet away from her daughter.

Izzy looked at her warily, rolling her shoulders back and standing as tall as she could in her platform heels. “What’s wrong.”

“We need a second witness for the ceremony.” Maryse said, stiffly.

“I thought that Dad-”

“He couldn’t make it.” Maryse said, cutting off her daughter.

Isabelle frowned in confusion.

Maryse took another small step forward. “There needs to be two witnesses. I’m one of them, and I thought you might like to be the other?”

Isabelle blinked. “Of course. I would be honoured.”

“I think they would both like to have you there.” Maryse gave a strained smile. “We have to hurry.” She glanced out the window at the rising sun. “We don’t have much time left.”

“Right.” Izzy said, taking a step towards her mother. “I don’t know where it is.”

Maryse looked surprised at the admission, but quickly shook it off. “Follow me. I know a shortcut, anyway.” She gave her daughter a tentative smile. They had a difficult relationship on the best of days, but Maryse would never deny the joy she felt in the rare moments that felt easy. She loved her children. All she wanted was to see them successful and happy.

Now, as she showed Isabelle a shortcut through a secret passageway at the end of the hall, she thought she just might be able to see one of those precious days when all of her children could celebrate their triumphs together, as a family.

  
  


 

Izzy and Maryse stood next to each other as Alec and Jace pledged themselves to each other, and the blue fire of the parabatai bond swirled around the two boys. The presiding Silent Brothers called for Jace and Alec to mark each other with the Parabatai rune. 

Alec went first, stepping into Jace’s space and picking a spot just below Jace’s ribs. He glanced up and met Jace’s eyes for a brief moment, making sure the placement was alright, but Jace just smiled. There was no place that Alec could put the parabatai rune that Jace would be unhappy with.

The rune burned as Alec drew it, but then there was a rush like nothing Jace had ever felt before. It was expansive inside his chest, like his ribcage had expanded enough to fit another set of lungs to go with the heartbeat that Jace could suddenly feel, steadily thumping beside his own. Jace could barely breathe through his happiness.

He would never be alone again. He would always have Alec. Alec would also always have him. There would never be another night where they couldn’t find one another. They were better together, stronger together, and Jace knew that he would never, ever let anything come between them.

Alec finished the rune and straightened up, taking a step back and holding the stele out to Jace. Jace took it and then stepped forward. He looked Alec in the eye, and then gently touched the skin above Alec’s left hip. It was the place that had once held the first, colourful swirl of Alec’s Soulmark.

Alec stared at Jace with wide eyes.

“We’re meant to be together, Alec.” Jace said, knowing it was true, feeling the certainty of it ringing in his bones. “Soulmarks might change, but this one won’t.”

Alec didn’t say anything, so Jace didn’t move. He held the stele where it was and waited for Alec to give a signal that he was okay with the placement.

“This is better than a Soulmark.” Jace said. “This is better than some random colour blob that changes for no reason. This is a choice.” Jace looked up and met Alec’s eyes. “I will always choose you.”

Alec had to blink back tears, but he managed a small smile, and then he nodded.

Jace grinned back, giddy and victorious. With a careful, steady hand, he traced over the empty space that for so long had marked Alec as destined to be alone.

Jace drew in the last curving strokes of the parabatai rune and swore that he would never let Alec end up alone. Alec might not have a Soulmark, and Jace couldn’t fix that - but Jace could give him this. No matter what happened, they never ever had to be alone again. Whatever challenges life brought, they would face together. They were friends, brothers, and forevermore, they were parabatai.


	7. In the Wake of Rising

~~~ SHORTLY AFTER THE DEATH OF VALENTINE MORGENSTERN, AND THE RISING OF ANGEL RAZIEL ~~~

  
  
Alec was running, and every step he took got him nowhere. He was running on the beach, sand shifting beneath his feet. He could hear the screeching of the Edomai demons behind him. It was too close, he wouldn’t have time to take a shot even if he wanted to try. He couldn’t call for Magnus. There could only be one outcome for Magnus. If the warlock was there, he would be die.

The woods were all around him, dark and treacherous. The only light came from over the ridge: a golden, otherworldly light that could only mean Valentine had managed to raise the Angel. Alec knew he had to get there, had to try and stop Valentine. He was already too late, but he couldn’t give up. He just needed to move faster. His lungs were burning, but he couldn’t stop. His feet hit the sand, running as fast as he could make his limbs move.

The angel seemed to stay as far away as it ever had been, but the dragon creature behind him was closer. Alec couldn’t see it, but he knew.

The ground shifted, and Alec stumbled. He hit the ground hard and scrambled to get back up. He got to his knees then froze. Magnus was in front of him, pale and still. There was blood from his ears and nose. His eyes were open and blank, staring up at the sky. Magnus was still in the way that could only come from death.

Alec stared, feeling his throat close up as he tried to breathe. The Edomai demon behind him shrieked again. He had to get up. He had to move. Just because Magnus was - Magnus was - Alec couldn’t even face the words. Magnus was dead.

Magnus was dead, and it was his fault.

Grief was a luxury for the living, though, and Alec didn’t have the time to indulge. He had to keep going. If he kept going, there was still a chance that maybe not everything would be lost. He had failed Magnus, but maybe he could still save the Downworld. Alec struggled to his feet, only to be struck down by a pain unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

It was worse than fire, worse than any injury Alec had ever faced. He felt like the threads that made up his entire being were being individually shredded. It was all-consuming, shredding, endless. Pain shot through his nerves but seemed to find a space between his lungs. A knot of acid was growing in his chest. Then, the pain flared at his hip, like lava had been poured onto his skin.

Distantly, he knew he was screaming, but he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move. Frantically, he scrabbled with his shirt, pulling it up only to be faced with his worst nightmare: for the second time in his life, Alec stared down at his skin, seeing only pale flesh where there should have been a mark.

His parabatai rune was gone. Alec stared in horror. “No.” He could hear himself starting to scream. “No, no no no no.” He couldn’t help it, he started to scratch at the blank space on his skin. The pain that was lighting through his nerves never let up, but Alec could handle that. His body would survive any amount of pain.

He couldn’t lose the closest thing he would ever have to a Soulmark. He couldn’t - he refused to believe that he was truly  _ that _ cursed.

Was his soul such poison that he couldn’t even keep his parabatai alive? He was still screaming, still pleading, digging his fingernails into his skin. The rune had to still be there. It had to be a trick, it had to be some kind of sick joke. He couldn’t breathe, the pain from his hip flaring as he kept scratching, but he couldn’t stop. Maybe he could uncover it if he just got a little deeper-

“Alexander!”

Alec closed his eyes as he heard the echo of Magnus’ voice. He didn’t want to see, couldn’t face whatever horrific corpse was left. He knew he would break if he had to see Magnus, corpse-still but somehow still talking.

“Alec, please!”

The voice didn’t stop, it sounded so real…

“You need to wake up! Alexander, it’s just a dream.” 

“No.” Alec said again, this wasn’t fair, he couldn’t - Jace was gone and Magnus was gone, and he was going to be haunted by the people that he failed. He wondered if he would meet the Soulmate he’d never gotten to meet. Alec knew he was crying, everything hurt, even death would be better than to be trapped here-

“Alec!”

Alec woke with a gasp, sitting up and curling over, fear rushing through him. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

" Alexander, you’re okay, it’s alright.”

Alec looked around frantically, for the first time registering where he was. Magnus was there, leaning over him, running a soothing hand along the bare skin of his back.

“It was just a dream.” Magnus said, trying to keep his voice soft and soothing.

“It wasn’t-” Alec couldn’t speak, he was panting, lungs choked with lingering fear. “It wasn’t,” He repeated desperately, “you. Jace. I couldn’t-”

Magnus shushed him gently, keeping his mands moving down Alec’s back and along his shoulders in long, soothing strokes. “I’m fine. Jace is fine.”

Alec swallowed and blinked, finally starting to realize that he was in Magnus’ bedroom. “Magnus?”

“I’m right here, Alexander.” Magnus said. His voice was quiet in the silence of the loft.

“ _ Magnus _ .” Alec repeated, turning so he could wrap his arms around his boyfriend.

Magnus sighed, and simply pulled Alec closer. Neither of them were strangers to nightmares, but recent events with Valentine had brought out the worst of it for them both.

Most of the time, they didn’t get bad enough to wake each other up, but there were always exceptions.

For Magnus, the worst nights were when he was reliving his experiences from the agony rune. He would be forced back into his memories of Edom, back to the moments when he was searing any hope for a Soulmate out of his future.

Alec had nightmares of fire and of losing his parabatai.

Sometimes they would be able to go back to sleep. Most of the time, they would stay up, sitting in silence, taking strength from the fact that despite everything, they were both still there: alive, together, and side by side, despite odds and adversity. 

As Magnus held Alec, he could feel the way the Shadowhunter kept stuttering through breathing instead of being able to find calm. Magnus realized that no amount of sitting would be enough to settle Alec. That happened too, sometimes. When it was all too much, and silence wasn’t enough.

“Talk to me?” Magnus asked quietly. There was no urgency in his voice. It wasn’t a demand, simply an offer - a reminder, that Magnus was there if ever Alec needed someone to listen.

Alec drew back and bit his lip, staring into Magnus’ eyes. “There’s something wrong with our bond, and I don’t know what it is.”

Magnus frowned but said nothing, simply reaching out to brush his hand against Alec’s jawline. Alec leaned into the touch instinctively, closing his eyes and focusing on the supportive touch.

“He won’t talk to me about it, he keeps saying that it’s fine, that nothing happened.” Alec opened his eyes slowly. “He’s lying to me, and I-” He paused and frowned. “I don’t understand why he thinks I can’t tell.”

“Maybe it doesn’t feel different to him?” Magnus asked, not really having any idea what it would be like to have a parabatai, but still trying to think of reasons for Jace’s behaviour.

“No. There’s no way.” Alec shook his head. “Magnus, it’s like…” Alec trailed off and closed his eyes. This time he focused his attention inward, focused on his bond with Jace. There was still a connection there that was undeniable, but it seemed hollow. Once, Alec had been able to reach for his parabatai and feel a rush of energy. It had been steady and powerful, like a river with a strong current. It might have looked peaceful from the shore, but underneath ran a powerful, unstoppable current.

The foundation of the bond was still there. When Alec reached out, he could still find Jace, sense that his parabatai was alive and well. It felt like an echo in comparison to what they had once had. The current was still there - the path between them hadn’t changed - but instead of the vibrant rush of water, it was like the light tug of a breeze.

Alec opened his eyes again when he’d found the words. “It’s like a light switch is off. The wires are still there, the...path...is still there, but there’s nothing going through it. The power isn’t there.”

Magnus frowned. He couldn’t pretend to know much about how Shadowhunter magic worked. He didn’t think it was a stretch to say that there was probably no one who would know much about how a parabatai bond was affected by disappearing without explanation. It was clear that something had to be done, though. Alec hadn’t managed a single full night of sleep since the night Valentine had been killed.

“What about the Silent Brothers?” Magnus asked.

“Jace won’t go for it.” Alec’s brows drew down and he shook his head. “I don’t know what happened, but he refuses to even consider talking to them.”

Magnus made a thoughtful noise at that. “I have a friend in the brotherhood I could speak to?”

Alec let out a huff of disbelieving laughter. “Of course you do.” He smiled gently at Magnus. “I love you.”

Magnus smiled back, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to Alec’s mouth. “I love you too.”

“I’ll talk to Jace, see what he says about you talking to your friend.”

“Let me know what he says.” Magnus said, brushing his hand through Alec’s hair. “I think sooner might be better, though.”

Alec sighed and nodded. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow.” He paused and then looked around the room. “Today?”

“If we still have time to sleep, it counts as tomorrow.” Magnus said, sagely.

Alec smiled at him. “Tomorrow, then.” He leaned forward to press his forehead to Magnus’. “Thank you.”

Magnus closed his eyes and let himself breathe in the moment: the warmth of Alec’s breath on his face, the warmth of his skin, the cool satin of the sheets and the quiet of the bedroom. He let it sink into his memory, savouring the exquisite feeling of being so completely, wholly in love.

“Always, Alexander.” He said softly, “Always.”

  
  
  


The next morning, Alec found himself staring at the tablet that was resting on his desk, but he might as well have been staring at the wall. He didn’t even notice that one of his hands had drifted to rest on his hip over his parabatai rune.

Technically, things were fine. On paper, everything had worked out. As far as the Clave was concerned, the entire thing had been tied up in a neat, tidy bow and now they could move past it as if it never happened.

Alec had no grounds to argue their findings, but he knew that something was wrong. He didn’t know what had happened that night. He  _ knew _ that something had happened to Jace. A flash of sense-memory washed over him, and Alec shuddered at the remembered echo of pain. His parabatai rune had disappeared.

Jace was scheduled to be training with Clary, but as soon as they were done for the day, Alec would go searching for his parabatai. Jace had been cagey with him lately, skirting around all of Alec’s inquiries and never present unless specifically requested. Even if Alec wasn’t worried about their bond, he would still be hurt. So much had happened over the last few months and Alec honestly found himself missing Jace.

He couldn’t remember the last time that they had been able to spend time together, the last time that they had been able to talk freely without feeling like the world would collapse if they spent too long standing still. Alec couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten to simply  _ be _ with Jace. They had spent so many days talking until the only thing left was laughter, spinning between them. There had been countless days spent in competition, sparring until they had both hit the ground so many times they couldn’t find the strength to get back up.

For the past months it had been fighting and silence and desperation.

Alec knew that he had been spending most of his free time with Magnus, but even when Jace had been living in the loft, he had always been running. There had always been something more important to do. Alec wasn’t sure when they had truly stopped talking to each other, but he knew that somehow, somewhere along the line, Jace had lost faith in him. Now, he needed to do whatever it took to build that trust back.

With a sigh, Alec could only reflect on his own decisions over the past months. It seemed like losing people’s faith was something of a common occurrence for him. He was going to fix that. He knew that it would take time and effort, and that he would probably fuck up more than he got it right, but he also knew that he would do whatever it took.

Magnus was still learning to trust him again, but it was slowly, slowly getting better. Alec could do the same for Jace. He would find out what happened and rectify whatever mistakes he’d made.

Glancing at his tablet, Alec caught that it had finally gotten late enough that Jace and Clary would be through with their training. He stood from his desk. He would make this right. Whatever he had done that had driven Jace away, Alec would fix it.

  
  


Alec finally found Jace in the security room. Alec knocked on the door frame before stepping into the doorway. “Hey.”

Jace looked up, and then went rigid. It was just a flash, but it was enough. “Hey, Alec. What’s up?” The false nonchalance in his voice was obvious and Alec winced at the sound of it.

Alec sighed heavily. “Jace, we need to talk.”

Jace smiled, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “I’m actually about to go meet up with Clary. She-”

“Jace.” Alec’s voice was dark and serious. “That was not a request. We can have this conversation here, or in my office, but it will be happening now.”

For a moment, it looked as though Jace was going to remonstrate. Then he grit his teeth and stood from the desk. “Fine.”

Alec looked at him and could only wonder how their relationship had come to this. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then began the walk back to his office, hearing the dutiful steps of his parabatai behind him the entire way.

  
  


Alec stepped into his office and waited for Jace to enter as well before closing the door. Jace took a few steps into the room, but stood there, unwilling to sit down. He looked nervous and angry, and Alec hurt when he saw it. The air between them was strained, filled with tension, but the most distressing thing, was that it was somehow awkward. 

Alec couldn’t think of a time in their lives when things had ever felt awkward between them. He sighed. “Jace, talk to me.”

“About what.” Jace said with a glare.

“Jace, please, what happened that night-”

“Nothing happened, Alec, why can’t you just let this go?”

“Our rune  _ disappeared _ Jace, that’s not nothing!” Alec said.

“I don’t know what happened,” Jace snapped. “I already told you that.”

“Fine!” Alec said, his frustration finally starting to wear through. “You don’t know what happened. Why are you so against finding out?”

“Excuse me for not wanting to sign up to be some kind of Clave experiment, Alec,” Jace scoffed, “ _ again _ .”

“What do you mean, ‘again’?”

“I have been an experiment my entire life, Alec. I know that none of that means anything to you, but-”

“Of course that matters to me, Jace!”

“Really? Because you seem pretty damn set on signing us up to be the next Shadowhunter science project.”

“I want to know what happened so we can fix it!”

“Why are you so convinced that anything needs fixing!” Jace snarled.

Alec fell silent at that, his eyes searching Jace’s face. “You don’t feel like there’s something wrong? Our bond doesn’t feel any different to you?”

Fear flashed through Jace’s eyes. “Alec, don’t push this. Please. If there’s something I’m not telling you, you don’t need to know. You don’t  _ want _ to know.”

“What?” Alec stared at him with a wash of confusion and disappointment on his face. “If you know something Jace, you need to tell me.”

“I need to tell you? And why is that? So the great Head of the Institute Alec Lightwood can run to the Clave?” Jace said, trying to coast on his anger. “Or maybe you’ll ask  _ Magnus _ about it. I’m sure that a warlock is incredibly knowledgeable about the intricacies of Shadowhunter bonds. You never know. Maybe he’s dated a parabatai in the past.” It was a low blow, and Jace knew it. He wasn’t looking at Alec, determined to not to see how his words were affecting his brother. He needed Alec to stop pushing, stop asking. The only thing that Jace could think of that would deter his parabatai was to lash out. Maybe if he could hurt Alec enough, he’d stop trying to pick at the situation. If he shut Alec out, made it clear that he would never give ground on this issue, then maybe Alec would stop asking.

Jace could feel anguish building in his gut to point he was starting to feel nauseous from it, but he ignored it. He needed to make sure that Alec understood it was a topic of conversation that would never be open for discussion, no matter how far he had to go.

“Do you remember the day we became parabatai, Jace?” Alec’s voice was distant and cold. “You told me that you wanted it more than anything.”

“Maybe I was wrong.” Jace shot back, driven to desperation. He wasn’t even thinking of what he was saying. All of his words were aimed toward the singular goal of getting Alec to back off. Jace couldn’t be the one to to expose Clary to the wrath of the Clave. The sick feeling in his stomach was starting to spread, sliding into his limbs.

Alec took a deep breath, trying to come up with any response that wasn’t heartbroken anger. There was nothing. His mind was whirling, caught in a loop of pain, anger, and desolate sadness. Finally, he looked up at met Jace’s eyes. “I won’t let go of this, Jace.” He was once again subconsciously pressing his hand to his rune. “I don’t know why you’re lying. I don’t know why you’re acting like this, but I know this matters to you.” Alec clenched his jaw. “I won’t let you give up on this bond - on  _ us _ \- without at least trying.”

Jace blinked at the cold, calculating determination in Alec’s voice and then for the first time truly looked at his parabatai. Alec was coiled in on himself, almost looking ready to fight. Except for the curve of his spine and the way he seemed to be curling around his parabatai rune.

“I have never, ever wanted to hurt you, Jace.” Alec said, and the pain in his voice was clear. “I won’t let you push me away.” He paused. “I learned that from Magnus, and he was right when he said it.”

Jace stared. He had been so busy trying to cover for Clary, to keep her safe and off the Clarve’s radar, that he’d forgotten he wasn’t the only one suffering effects from what had happened that night. 

The twisting, cold weight of despondency was starting to spread through his bones like his blood had been replaced with something thick, oily, and freezing. Jace could barely think past the sensation as it built, steadily overtaking everything else. He closed his eyes a moment, focusing on the sensation, only to realize with a sickening horror that it was coming from Alec.

It was the first time he’d felt any kind of strong feeling through the parabatai bond since he’d come back from the dead. It wasn’t the warm thrum of comfort that Jace had gotten used to from his soul-connection to his friend. Now, all he could feel was waves of despair and pain so strong that he was almost surprised that Alec was still standing.

Jace moved slowly, gingerly pressing his fingertips against his own parabatai rune, and the miserable agony rolled over him like a storm front. He glanced up at Alec and realized that they had to do something.

It was one thing for Jace to push aside his pain when it was only affecting him. It was entirely different to be faced with the reality that Alec was suffering just as much. He thought back to the day of their parabatai ceremony, of the way that Alec had been so hesitant to tie his soul to anyone ever again. Jace had promised that day that he would always put Alec first.

Feeling the unremitting pain that was coursing through their bond, Jace realized that he had failed to keep that promise. Alec had come so far in the past months, had finally started living for something other than the flimsy promises of familial pride and the weak possibilities of political maneuvering.

Jace hadn’t been lying, that day on the balcony when he’d told Magnus he could sense that Alec was happier. It had been so easy to see. The Alec he saw in front of him now had lost even the smallest shred of that happiness, twisting in on himself and always so ready to shred himself to pieces for the approval of others. He had always had a tendency to take responsibility for things that were out of his control, and Jace was beginning to understand that this - the state of their bond-  was something that Alec was blaming himself for.

“This isn’t your fault Alec. You know that, right?”

Alec squinted at him in confusion and scoffed bitterly. “Isn’t that what you just said? That you couldn’t tell me what happened because I would turn you over to the Clave?”

“That wasn’t what I meant-”

“Then please explain what else that could possibly mean.” Alec snapped.

Jace ran a hand through his hair and then looked at Alec. It was one thing to protect Clary from the politics of the Clave. It was entirely different to watch Alec destroy himself and understand that Jace could have stopped it at any time. Jace glanced to the door of the office then looked back at his parabatai, coming to a decision.

“Alec, no one can know about this.”

“Jace, what are you talking about?”

“We need to sit down for this.” Jace said, finally stepping farther into the room, and sitting on the surface of Alec’s desk. Alec followed him slowly.

“Jace, what the hell happened that night.”

Jace took a deep breath and began the tale. Alec stayed silent the entire time, just listening, as Jace tried to put into words what it had felt like - the fight with Valentine, the pain and confusion of waking up, the terrifying blank of his memories from when he had apparently been dead. Jace talked until he choked on tears, trying to explain the fear that he still felt lingering in the back of his neck. He tried to explain the way he didn’t feel like he fit in his skin anymore, that every night he woke up screaming, trapped in nightmares that he hadn’t come back right, that there was some darkness embedded in his soul now that he would never be able to get rid of.

Alec only listened until Jace had stuttered to the end of his story, apparently out of words. Then he moved, cradling Jace in a hug and holding him close. Jace hugged him back, fingers twisting feebly in his shirt, and Alec just held him tighter.

“Jace, we will figure this out.”

“I don’t know what to do, Alec.” Jace admitted, his voice cracking with emotion.

“This is why you didn’t want to go to the Silent Brothers.” Alec said.

Jace nodded against his chest. “If they find out what Clary did-”

“They won’t.” Alec said firmly. “Not from us.”

Once again, Jace was in awe of his parabatai. “Alec, if they find out you know-”

“She’s one of us. I won’t let anything happen to her.”Alec said, with the confidence and ease that Jace had only ever been able to put on as an act.

“I thought you don’t even like her.” Jace said, trying to ease the atmosphere.

Alec let go of him slowly and leaned back. “I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“It’s something else I learned from Magnus.” Alec said, then paused, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know if we ever really talked about it - there was so much going on, with Max and Jonathan and Valentine.”  He took a breath and then looked at Jace. “Did you know that Magnus broke up with me?”

“What?” Jace stared in shock. “What? Alec, when?”

“No, we’re fine, well - not  _ fine _ , but we’re back together now.”

“What happened?”

“See, that’s the thing.” Alec said with a wry smile. “Dad came back into town. He had something he needed to tell me. The Clave knew that we didn’t have the Soul Sword. I knew, and I chose not to tell Magnus. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought that I was saving him from having to deal with the fall-out from the Downworld. I thought that by not telling him and trying to keep politics out of our relationship, I would be making things easier for him.” He looked at Jace. “I was wrong.”

“What?” Jace asked.

“I thought that I was saving him from having to make an impossible decision. What I was really doing was taking that decision away from him.” Alec explained, “It’s not my job to decide what’s best for him. It’s my job to let him make his own choices and to be as supportive as I can.”

“Okay, but what-”

“Jace, you trusted me to be Head of the Institute. You gave me this position.”

“Because it should be yours.” Jace replied immediately.

“So you need to trust me to do that.” Alec said, raising an eyebrow.

“I didn’t want to put you in that position-”

“No.” Alec said shortly. “That is not your decision. What I do with information is my decision. What I do with my responsibilities is my decision. You either trust me to do that, or you don’t.”

“Of course I trust you, Alec! You’re my parabatai.” Jace said.

Alec gave him a look of frustrated disbelief. “Really? So that’s why you’ve been lying to me for these past weeks? Because you trust me?”

Jace opened his mouth but closed it when he realized he didn’t have a response.

“You’re my brother, Jace. My best friend. I can’t… I don’t know what I can do, to prove that you can trust me.” Alec said, sounding sad. “You gave me this job, and I thought…”

“You’ve wanted this your entire life.” Jace interjected. “Of course I gave it to you.”

“It doesn’t come at your expense, Jace!” Alec said. “This  _ is _ what I’ve wanted my whole life, but I never, ever wanted it without you by my side.” He sighed. “I guess I thought you wanted that too.”

“I do!” Jace protested, but for some reason the words felt hollow and ashen on his tongue.

Alec gave him a small, painful smile. “It’s okay.”

“Alec…” Jace said, pausing for a moment before forging ahead, “I want you to be happy.”

Alec smiled, but it was a real smile that time, not just a forced attempt. “I know, Jace. That’s all I want for you too.”

Jace held his hand out for Alec to take. Alec grabbed it, clasping their arms together as they had for years.

“We’ll figure this out.” Alec said, voice full of promise.

“You’ll talk to Magnus?” Jace asked, knowing that hope was creeping into his tone.

Alec nodded. “Yeah. I will.” He pulled Jace in for one more hug. “Whatever it takes. I’m always here for you.”

Jace swallowed. “You too, Alec.”

“I love you, Jace.” Alec said softly.

“I love you too.” Jace said, feeling like he could breathe for the first time since they’d returned from Lake Lyn so long ago. Part of him felt childish for it, but if Alec and Magnus both said that they would fix something, Jace had a hard time believing that anything could stand in their way. “If there’s anything I can do to help-”

“We’ll let you know.” Alec confirmed with a smile. He slid off the desk and stepped away from his parabatai. “Now, get. I was supposed to be doing paperwork, and now if I don’t get to it, I’ll be late for dinner with Magnus.”

“Yes, sir.” Jace said, rolling his eyes, but he was laughing. He walked out of Alec’s office feeling like he had hope for the first time in months.

Maybe things would manage to work out after all. 

Just maybe.


	8. Truth, Cast of a Spell

~~~3 DAYS LATER~~~

  


"Alec, I think I’ve found it.” Magnus said, walking into the room with a thick spellbook balanced in the palm of one hand.

“Really?” Alec looked up form his own stack of books that had slowly grown to take over most of the coffee table in Magnus’ living room.

“Ah, more or less.” Magnus amended as he moved to sit on the couch next to Alec. “I must admit that Mochica was never my strongest language.”

"Mochica?” Alec asked.

“It was spoken in Northern Peru for a time.”

“But not anymore.” Alec said.

“Alas not, my darling.” Magnus looked at the book in his hand wistfully. “There are a great many things not spoken in a great number of places.” He sighed, “so much poetry lost.” He placed the book on the table in front of the couch and turned to Alec with a snap. “But! Some things have not been lost, and one such thing might be just what we need.”

“What is it?”

"It’s a spell to reveal inner truth, whether those truths are known by the participants or not.”

Alec frowned. “Whether known by the participants or not? What does that mean?”

Magnus glanced down at the book and read through the spell again. “It would appear as though it is meant to reveal both innermost secrets, but also epiphanies that have not yet been consciously realized.”

“Okay,” Alec said slowly, “how does that work?”

“It works off the strength of relationships.” Magnus said, running his finger down the page that held the description of the spell.

“This isn’t another sacrifice,” Alec said sharply, looking up.

“What?” Magnus turned away from the page and saw the heaviness in Alec’s face.

“Are we summoning something?” Alec clarified. “Because that has not gone well for us recently.”

Magnus winced at the reminder. “No. This isn’t a summoning - it’s more of an extrapolation.” He tapped the book absently, trying to figure out the most concise way to explain. “It’s based on the network of relationships. The more people involved in the casting, and the closer they are to each other, the spell will grow in power and accuracy. It… more or less combines everyone’s knowledge and understanding of each other and then magnifies it and filters out what people are already aware of.”

“Is there a limit?” Alec asked, “Or can we just keep adding people and the spell gets stronger?”

“I think that the cap is based on relationships,” Magnus mused, “the spell won’t be helped by gathering people from the streets. They have to close connections to each other.”

“Right,” Alec said with a nod. “How long will it take to set up?”

“I have everything we need for it here.” Magnus said. “It will just be figuring out who we need for the spell and then getting everyone here at the same time.”

“Is there a way to focus it?” Alec asked, frowning, “can we guide it at all, make sure that we find out what happened to Jace? Or does it just… reveal whatever it will?”

“I’m not sure. As far as I can tell the spell responds individually to everyone involved in the casting.”

“So everyone will get their own answers.” Alec said.

Magnus looked over at him. “It’s not a terribly taxing spell. We could try it out.”

“What?” Alec pulled back in surprise. “Right now?”

Magnus nodded, “we can do a trial run, just the two of us. I’ve never done this spell, so that might actually help if we find we need to modify it at all.”

Alec looked at Magnus then nodded. “Yeah. Okay. If you think it would help.”

“Only if you want to, Alexander,” Magnus said softly, “the very nature of this spell is to reveal personal information, and everyone involved will know.”

Alec smiled and shook his head. “I trust you.”

“It will be different with just the two of us- there will be nothing to dilute it.”

“If you’re not comfortable, we don’t have to.” Alec said. “If you want to wait until there are other people-”

“I have lived a very long life, Alexander,” Magnus said slowly.

"I know that, Magnus. I’ve always known that.” Alec chewed his lip for a moment. “I know that I haven’t always had the best response, sometimes, when your past comes up. It’s not - that’s not how I feel, though.” He reached out and curled his hand around Magnus’ wrist. “I love you, Magnus. There’s nothing that I could ever learn that would make me feel differently about you. Sometimes…” Alec sighed. “Sometimes I get caught in my head. I - I try to think about your life, all the things you’ve experienced, and I know that I can’t even begin to comprehend it. You’ve lived for centuries. I get reminded sometimes, that everything I’ve seen is the blink of an eye to you.”

“Alexander, you are so much more-”

“No, that wasn’t what I meant.” Alec said. “It’s just that… everything you are. It’s so _much_.” He brought his free hand up to wave through the air like he was trying to catch the words that he couldn’t put into order. “I think about who you are and everything you’ve done and everything that you’ll do. A few hundred years ago, you were inventing the portal. Sometimes I try to imagine what you’ll be doing a few hundred years from now, and I can’t - I-” Alec cut himself off and shook his head. He took a deep breath and then turned to meet Magnus’ eyes.

“I can be stupid sometimes, I know that. You say things, and I realize that I will never be able to comprehend the scope of everything that you’ve done, everything you will do.” Alec leaned forward and took Magnus’s hand between both of his own. “None of that will ever change how I feel about you. Even- even when I can’t get my head around it, and I can’t think past it, it doesn’t - nothing could ever make me love you less.”

“Oh, Alexander.” Magnus said softly, at a loss for words. He leaned forward and kissed Alec, pressing their mouths together and wishing that he had the same ability to be candid and earnest with his feelings. Instead, all he could do was pull his lover closer and try to explain in other ways. Magnus curled his hands around Alec’s neck and hoped with all his heart that Alec could _feel_ just how much those words had affected him.

They held their connection until they were both straining for air, but even then, Magnus just tipped their foreheads together, unwilling to be separated any further from Alec in that moment. “I love you too, Alexander. I love you so much.”

Alec gave him a giddy smile and leaned in for another kiss, and Magnus met him eagerly.

They were both panting when Magnus stood from the couch and held his hand out. “We could try the spell in the morning.”

Alec glanced at the books sprawling around the room, then up at Magnus, standing there with mussed hair, flushed face and kiss-bruised lips. “You have said that magic is easier after a good night of sleep.”

Magnus grinned and his eyes sparkled with challenge. “Then perhaps you should make sure I sleep well.”

Alec took the hand that Magnus offered and stood. “Was that a challenge?”

“It might have been.” Magnus said, raising an eyebrow.

Alec laughed and then dipped in, kissing Magnus again. “I love you, Magnus Bane.”

“I love you too, Alexander.”

They made their way to Magnus’ bedroom laughing together, hand in hand.

  
  
  
  


The next morning found Magnus and Alec sitting next to each other, eating breakfast and leaning over a notebook.

“We need to have Clary here, obviously.” Alec said. “Isabelle - Max hasn’t been cleared for fieldwork yet, he’s in New York, but he’s still recovering from when Jonathan attacked him.” Alec ran the back of his pen down the pad of paper, tapping it at the bottom of the list of names.

“Have you thought about asking Simon?” Magnus asked, looking at the very short list that Alec had compiled.

“Simon?” Alec turned to Magnus in confusion. “I thought we wanted people with strong connections.”

“Jace did save Simon’s life, that night with the Soul Sword.” Magnus pointed out. “That can be a powerful bond.”

Alec looked away at the mention of the massacre, but he nodded and dutifully wrote Simon’s name. He paused, then wrote Maia’s name on the list as well.

“I didn’t know they were close.” Magnus said.

Alec looked up. “I don’t know if they spend that much time together, but I’ve noticed whenever Jace is having a hard time, she always seems to be there.” He shrugged and tried to pretend that it didn’t hurt to know that he was no longer the person that Jace turned for support.

Magnus saw through Alec’s thin attempt to cover his distress and reached out, running a hand along Alec’s arm.

“We can ask her, then. What we’re talking about is no small favor. If she chooses to come, it will be because she cares enough about him to be here.”

Alec leaned into Magnus’s touch and nodded silently.

Magnus leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Alec’s cheek before turning his attention back to their list.

“This list seems a bit lopsided to me.”

Alec turned to him with a frown. “What?”

“You have all of these people on this list because of their connection to Jace.” Magnus observed.

“Yes.” Alec said. “That’s the way the spell works, right? We’re trying to find out what happened to Jace, so we get the people he’s closest to.”

“I think that you’re forgetting a significant aspect of this, Alexander.” Magnus ran his finger down the list of names again. “We are trying to find out what happened to Jace, of course, but we’re also trying to find out what has happened to your parabatai bond.”

Alec squinted at him in confusion. “It’s the same thing.”

“Alexander, Jace is only half of the parabatai bond.” Magnus said. “Is there anyone on this list for you?”

Alec sputtered and blinked at him. “You don’t need to be on the list.”

“Come now, Alexander. Surely I am not the only person not on this list that you’re close to.”

Alec frowned at Magnus then turned back to the page of names. He took a deep breath. “I…” he trailed off, voice soft, “I don’t know.”

Magnus smiled sadly at Alec’s hesitation. “This spell is to uncover secrets and hidden truths. If you were to discover something that would change your life forever, who would you want to have at your side?”

“You.” Alec said immediately.

“Other than me, Love.”

“Jace, Izzy.”

“And their names are already on our list, Alexander.”

Alec was silent for a long while, staring at the paper, seemingly lost in thought. Magnus put a hand on the back of Alec’s neck, but let him have as long as he needed.

“I...I think I would want my mother to be there.” He finally said. “If Max was better, but-”

“Bring him along as well. This spell won’t harm him.” Magnus said.

Alec nodded and wrote their names on his list. “Maybe Cat?” He asked.

"I’m sure she would be honoured to be here for you.” Magnus said with a smile. The thought that Alec and Catarina had grown close enough for her to be invited made warmth flare through Magnus’ heart.

“If you invite Cat, though, you know Madzie will need to come as well.”

Alec paused where he had been writing Cat’s name on the list. “Should I leave her off, then?”

“The point of that comment was to add Mazie’s name, Alexander, not to cross off Catarina.”

"Madzie’s just a child.” Alec said, worrying at his lip with his teeth. “We don’t know what this spell is going to bring up.”“If you’re not comfortable with it, we don’t need to include her.” Magnus said steadily, “This isn’t a spell to hurt, though. It was created to channel positive intentions and to foster strength within communities.”

Alec didn’t look convinced.

“This spell was built to do exactly what we’re doing, which is to help people help each other. This spell - it doesn’t broadcast things to other people. It gives everyone a vision of their own truth, inside their own head.”

Alec was still frowning.

“If you don’t want her here, than it’s best to not have her here.” Magnus said, trying to soothe Alec before he could stray too far into tension and anxiety.

“It’s personal,” Alec repeated slowly, “and it won’t hurt anyone.”

“It’s not meant to.” Magnus quickly cut in. “There are times when the most painful thing a person can possibly hear is the truth, especially if they aren’t ready to hear it.”

Alec nodded, but it was clear from the look in his eyes that his thoughts were elsewhere. Finally, he nodded and added two more names to his list: Max and Madzie.

Magnus gave Alec’s shoulder a squeeze. “For what it’s worth, I think it will mean a lot to them both to be involved.”

Alec glanced over at Magnus and gave a small smile. “It will also be a lot easier if we just include them instead of trying to stop them from sneaking in anyway.”

Magnus laughed, “that is also certainly true.”

Alec tapped the pen against the list again, “Is there anyone else we should ask?”

Magnus ran down through the names of everyone invited. “If we’re having Maia and Maryse, perhaps we should ask Luke, as well? He’s close to Clary and Simon, too.”

“That would be good.” Alec agreed, adding Luke’s name to the list. “That’s twelve people.” He turned to Magnus. “Is there anyone that you want to have? It’s your spell, too.”

Magnus shook his head “I have plenty of time to learn whatever truths I may need to learn.”

Alec bit his lip, but didn’t say anything.

“What?” Magnus pressed.

“Nothing.” Alec said. “I know you said the spell wasn’t taxing, but that’s a lot of people.”

Magnus looked at him thoughtfully. “It truly doesn’t require much energy, but…” He trailed off. “I’m sure that Dot would be willing to join us for this.”

Alec wrote her name on the page.

“That’s probably good.” Magnus said. “After all, there’s power in thirteen.”

“So we’ll do the spell with thirteen people?” Alec asked.

“I think we should.” Magnus replied. “It seems auspicious.”

Alec gave a wry smile. “Auspicious is good. We could use some more of that around here.”

Magnus scoffed, leaning forward to kiss Alec. “That, my dear, is what you have me for.”

Alec laughed and then kissed Magnus back.

   

  
  
  


~~~LATER THAT WEEK~~~

  
  


Magnus looked around the living room of his loft full of people. He had to admit that if he hadn’t been there to see it, he never could have imagined that such a group could come together. The fact was that they were there - all thirteen of them - and Magnus couldn’t be happier.

The circumstances were far from ideal - Magnus truly was looking forward to a time when he could fill his house with people with no ulterior motive. He longed for the days when he could have people over and it wasn’t providing shelter for those in need of safety. Even the last party he’d gotten to pull together hadn't been simply for the joy of it, but instead to make a statement in front of the Clave that he and Alec were serious about pursuing their relationship.

It was hardly a secret that Magnus _liked_ parties. He liked going over guest lists, thinking of who he hadn’t seen lately, connecting friends who needed to meet each other but hadn’t yet had a chance to become acquainted. There was something about the atmosphere of it - being able to look around and see the people he cared for having a good time. Magnus would freely admit that he was enamoured with it.

He also missed it.

Looking around his loft, Magnus could see the echoes of what could be, if the situation had been different. Alec would be with Max and Madzie, mediating as the two hesitantly began a friendship. Maryse and Catarina would be talking quietly in a corner as they watched over their children. Isabelle and Clary would be sitting on the couch with Maia and Simon. Dot and Luke would be sipping cocktails and chatting on the balcony. If the night were different, Mangus mused that he would most likely be the one seeking out Jace for conversation. They hadn’t had many chances to talk since the Shadowhunter had moved out of the loft and back into the Institute.

 

The reality of the situation was much different. Clary was working on drawing out the sigils for the spell on the floor of the workroom. Catarina had led Dot to a couch the moment she’d arrived. Dot had walked through the door looking pale and weak. Apparently she’d been attacked by Jonathan, and Magnus hadn’t even known. Clary and Jace had taken her for dead.

Maryse stood alone in the corner, but she looked comfortable in a way that Magnus had never seen on her when she had runes. Luke was sitting with Maia and Simon, but the looks that he was sharing with Maryse were far from subtle. It wasn’t a couple that Magnus would have ever predicted them, but watching them together, he could see how they were drawn to each other.

Jace had gotten to the loft and then walked directly out onto the balcony, not acknowledging anyone. Alec was doing his best to keep Madzie and Max entertained, but it was painfully obvious that his attention was on his parabatai. Isabelle had yet to arrive, staying late at the Institute to look over a report from the Iron Sisters.

The silence of the room was perhaps what Magnus noticed the most. There was no music, no joy. There wasn’t even the adrenaline rush of fear, the constant vigilance that came from war. Instead, it was a drawn-out, lingering exhaustion. This was the painful, strained silence of _waiting_. People were afraid to speak too loud, as if too many words would summon the questions that they were afraid to ask.

_What now?_

_Why us?_

_How much more can we take?_

 

_What if this isn’t enough?_

  


Magnus sighed. Every single person in the loft had been through far too much in past few months. Everyone deserved a rest, at least a little time to recover from atrocities suffered and horrors witnessed. None of them were untouched from Valentine’s twisted crusade.

If only it had actually ended when they had finally managed to kill the man.

 

Magnus was startled out of his musing by a knock on the door. He scoffed to himself and shook his head. There were only two Shadowhunters who ever had the courtesy to knock on his door, and they both carried the surname Lightwood. He walked to the door and opened wide.

Isabelle stood in the hallway, looking tired but healthy. She was wearing a deep red lipstick that matched the very familiar ruby necklace she was wearing.

“Isabelle!” Magnus said, drawing her in for a hug. “It’s so good to see you well.”

Isabelle nodded, managing a half-smile. “I’m getting there.”

“Of that I have no doubt, my dear.” Magnus said, gently. “That necklace looks familiar. I thought it had shattered.”

That earned Magnus a true smile, Isabelle’s eyes lighting up at the comment. She reached for the pendant of her necklace, slipping it off her neck so Magnus could have a closer look.

“I fixed it.” Isabelle said, triumph ringing through her voice.

Magnus delicately took the necklace from her and peered at it closely, admiring her work. “Isabelle, this is truly magnificent.” He said, honestly.

She grinned back at him. “Thank you.”

“It’s almost as magnificent as you.” Magnus added with a smile.

 Isabelle laughed at that, and Magnus was grateful for the sound. He could already feel the tension of the loft dissipating at the sheer force of her happiness.

“May I get you something to drink?” He offered as they stepped into the loft.

“I’ll just have water.” Izzy said, slipping off her jacket and hanging it over the back of a chair.

Magnus nodded and with a snap of his fingers, Isabelle was holding a tall glass of cold water.

She grinned and raised it as if giving a toast. “Thank you, Magnus.”

“Of course, my dear.” Magnus said.

Izzy looked around. “Were you waiting for me?”

“No,” Magnus said, “our dear Biscuit is just putting the finishing touches on our spell-circle.”

She gave a hum of understanding, then surveyed the room. “Where is Jace?”

“He’s outside on the balcony.” Magnus said, pointing to the where Jace’s silhouette was visible through the glass doors.

Isabelle managed to only look heartbroken for a flash of a second before she pushed it down. “I think that’s where I’m headed, then.”

Magnus nodded. “We’ll come get you as soon as everything is ready.”

Isabelle turned and placed her hand on Magnus’ shoulder. “Thank you,” her voice was serious, “you’ve done so much for all of us.”

“I never would have done any of it if you didn’t deserve it.” Magnus replied, but he reached up and squeezed her hand in acknowledgment.

She gave him another brief flash of a smile before turning to walk out to the balcony.

Magnus sighed as she walked away, knowing that any hope of a lighter atmosphere walked out the door with her.

  


It wasn’t too much later before Clary walked out of the work room. The knees of her jeans and the palms of her hands were smeared with different colours of chalk. She had streaks of colour on her face and the backs of her hands where she’d clearly tried and failed to wipe the colour off.

 

“It’s ready.” She said calmly, glancing around.

Magnus pushed himself out of his chair and clapped his hands. “Let’s begin then.”

It took a few minutes to get everyone together and into the work room. The design that Clary had drawn was stunning in its intricacy. It had the base of a thirteen-pointed star, but there were circles that bloomed through the design like petals and curves that tied everything together like knots of ivy.

Magnus had to admit it was some of the cleanest spellwork he’d ever seen in his life. For a brief moment, he was reminded of the last time he’d known a woman with such attention to the art within science and magic. Foscharina had always approached the world like she would bend it to her will and make the universe itself tell her its secrets. He closed his eyes and quickly shook it away. It never did him any good to think of his past Matches. That wasn’t for him. Not ever again.

Now he had an incredible boyfriend, and Magnus was fairly certain that it wasn’t possible to feel more in love. It didn’t matter if they were Matched or not. They were happy, and that was enough for Magnus.

They didn’t talk about Soulmarks, and Magnus was more than happy to keep it that way. He suspected that Alec was as well, because for all that Magnus had seen every inch of Alec’s skin, he’d never seen a Soulmark.

If it ever came up, they would discuss it. In the meantime, Magnus was more than content to leave the subject untouched.

“Magnus?” The voice belonged to Catarina. Magnus flashed her a smile and shook his head.

“It’s nothing.” He clapped his hands again, rubbing his palms together. “Now! Everyone stand beside a point of the star and take hands. This spell won’t hurt, and whatever is revealed will be revealed to you, and you alone.” He paused. “Any questions?”

“Yeah,” Max said. “Can we get pizza after this?”

“Max!” Alec and Maryse sounded scandalized and began chiding the youngest Lightwood at the same time, but Magnus could only laugh.

“If you still want some after, I’ll see what I can find for you.”

Alec glanced at Magnus, and then back to Max, with a look on his face that clearly indicated they would be discussing appropriate behaviour at a later time.

Magnus chucked again, then looked around the room. “Any other queries?”

He was met with silence, so Magnus took it as his cue to begin the spell.

 

The spell wasn’t complicated or difficult. Magnus took a deep breath in, and he could feel the words built in the pattern by their feet. He kept his feet wide as he drew his arms in wide circles, letting his magic run along the chalk lines that Clary had drawn. He could feel the flare of energy from every person who stood in the circle and the way their different kinds of power were pulled into the sigil.

Shadowhunter, werewolf, Daylighter, and warlock, spinning together as Magnus led all of it through the path of the design. They were woven together, through fate, through choice, through joy and tragedy. They all stood, side by side, choosing to forge a bond together in order to help one of their own.

Magnus pulled on the strings he could feel from everyone, the way that everyone’s essence had a unique flavour to it, but they were all strong and vibrant. He let himself sink into it, letting his power merge with theirs as it flooded the through the spell. Magnus could feel the ancient syllables spilling from his lips, guiding the ever-growing energy that was building.

There was no way this spell could go wrong. It was so clear from the overwhelming feeling of it. Everyone was there with an open heart and a desire to help. People arrived with nothing to offer but love, hope and support. Magnus was nearly shaking from it. The sheer warmth of it seemed to vibrate within every cell in his body. His eyes were burning from the boundless love that was crackling through the spell. There were no dark points of the circle. Every single person present was there with pure intentions, and the spell was cascading into an avalanche.

The power was crashing through the room, but Magnus never needed to raise his voice. All it took was the gentlest tone, the hint of a request, and the spell was responding.

 _We’re hurting_. Magnus let the spell take the words from him. _We’re afraid._ He could feel the way the spell recoiled at the notion, as if the magic itself was taking offense that anyone in the room would be forced to experience such things.

_We don’t know what’s wrong. We want to help._

The power rose, like a hurricane was coalescing to turn coal into diamonds.

 _Please help us._  Magnus could feel his words searing into the magic as it spun through the circle.

_We want to know what’s wrong so we can find a remedy._

There was a surge of power that Magnus could feel ringing through the marrow of his bones. Magic pulled and twisted, growing exponentially every time it ricocheted off one of the points of the star. The heat of it was all-consuming, but nothing like being burned. It was being submerged in cool water on a hot day, it was the curling steam of a hot drink on a cold night. Magnus felt like he was being embraced and swaddled in a blanket that was built from threads that were the love of his friends made physical. He felt like every breath was the taste of comfort and safety.

The power was already so strong, the air was singing with the magic of it. Magnus stepped back and took hands with Alec, who was on his right, and Dot, who was on his left. With the circle completed, Magnus once again focused on the magic. There was only one thing left to say.

_We are hurting. We want to help. Please, tell us what we need to know._

 

There was one final rush of power, and then everything went white.

  
  
  
  


Magnus blinked and looked around. He frowned for a moment, taking a step and hearing a sickeningly familiar crunch of leaves beneath his feet. The forest - _that_ forest. That forsaken forest that Magnus never wanted to see again for as long as he lived.

He sat down and curled into his knees. There was nothing in that fucking forest that he ever wanted to see. He had been there to see Scoutijn die. He had been there to learn that the only way for him to keep his soulmates safe was to banish his Soulmark.

Seeing it ever again was far, far too soon.

Magnus curled his fingers into the cloth of his trousers, trying to fight off shivers of desolation that were threatening to creep into his limbs. He didn’t want this. He didn’t deserve it - he’d done everything he possibly could to keep people safe, it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t-

“Magnus.”

He froze. He knew that voice. He would never, ever forget that voice. The warm, clear tone of it, the way that it sounded caressing his name. The way that voice sounded taking scientific notes by candlelight late into the night, the way that voice sounded as they consistently confounded the people arrogant enough to think of themselves as the brightest minds of the time.

“Magnus, my love. Will you open your eyes?”

Slowly, Magnus opened his eyes and looked up. Foscharina knelt before him, with her eyes sparkling and a sad smile on her face. “We love you. It was never our intent to bring you any pain.”

“No! No, it was never your fault-” Magnus started frantically.

“Hush, my love. None of this was ever your fault, either.” Foscharina reached out and took his face between her hands.

Magnus could feel tears burning at the back of his eyes. “It is my fault, my father - I should have realized-”

“What did you do when you realized it was your father?” Scoutijn’s voice from the side, and Magnus jerked, spinning to see him.

“What?” Magnus gaped, seeing his soulmates before him, seemingly happy and in good health, not at all how he had last seen them.

“Coppen, I need to apologize. It never occured to me that you would take my words so far.”

Magnus stared, completely uncomprehending.

Scoutijn sighed and then stepped forward, coming to kneel on the ground next to Foscharina. They shared a glance with each other before turning back to Magnus.

“Coppen,” Scoutijn began slowly, ‘do you remember what I told you?”

Magnus shook his head, words caught in his throat. _Did he remember?_ How could there have been any world in which he forgot?

“Oh, Magnus.” Foscharina said softly, shifting so that she sat beside him, pulling him into her so she could hold him as he shook.

“I said that love is your power, Coppen.”

“You said I should never let anyone take my love from me.” Magnus said, his voice raw and cracking.

Scoutijn shook his head. “I never thought that I would have to warn you to never let you take love away from yourself.” He reached out and held Magnus’ chin in his hand. “You don’t deserve to be alone, Coppen.”

Magnus stared and lost his battle to fight back his tears. He was completely overwhelmed in every way, wrapped securely in Foscharina’s arms, face to face with Scoutijn. The two people who matched his soul.

The two people that he’d failed.

 

“Magnus. What your father did wasn’t your fault.” Foscharina said softly.

Magnus pressed his face tighter into his own arms, even as he closed his eyes in denial.

“Have you been happy, Coppen? All these years alone, have they brought you joy?”

“Of course not!” Magnus finally spat, feeling as sobs starting take hold of his lungs. “All I ever wanted - I never - all I have _ever_ wanted was to be with my match!” The words hurt as he spoke them, feeling like they were scraping his throat as he forced them out. “That’s why I couldn’t - I, I don’t.” Magnus lost his air. He didn’t want to say this. Not to them, not to the beautiful people that had only died because of him. “I couldn’t let anyone else die for loving me.”

“Do you remember the last thing you said in Edom?” Foscharina asked.

Magnus dragged a hand across his eyes where he could feel his tears dripping down his face. “What?”

Scoutijn picked up the thread from Foscharina. “The last thing you said when you were in Edom?”

Magnus looked between them, confused. “No?”

“You shall never again reap profit from the destruction of soulbonds.” Foscharina quoted.

“You made it so.” Scoutijn said, almost conversationally.

Magnus could only stare. “What?”

Foscharina pressed a light kiss to his cheek. “You tapped into the power of Edom itself, to cast that spell. You reached so far into the dimension, and you spoke with such strength of intention, that when you said those words, you made them true.”

“How-” Magnus stopped. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

“Love is your power.” Scoutijn said. He leaned in and kissed Magnus on the forehead. “I can never make up for the pain I have caused by not being more careful with my words. For that, I will forever be sorry.”

“No!” Magnus reached forward and grabbed Scoutijn’s wrist “No, please don’t say that, you have nothing to be sorry for, not ever.”

Scoutijn smiled softly, flipping his hand over so he could tangle his fingers with Magnus’. “I have your forgiveness so easily?”

“I love you.” Magnus said, stubbornly.

Scoutijn smiled, and Magnus could feel the soft huff of Foscharina’s laughter against his skin.

“Would you forgive yourself with the same ease?” Scoutijn asked, almost admonishing.

“Of course he wouldn’t.” Foscharina answered, giving Magnus a gentle squeeze to accompany her words. “He’s never been good at forgiving himself.”

“I should have known better!” Magnus cut out.

“You did the best you could with the information you had at the time.” Foscharina said. “No one can ever do anything more.”

“It was the only information I had at the time because I didn’t let myself see the truth.” Magnus said, bitterly.

“You carved new rules into the very core of Edom, Coppen.” Scoutijn said, “I cannot think of any greater lengths that anyone could go to.”

“Only after-”

“Only after you learned what was happening?” Foscharina supplied. “Only after your father slipped up enough for you to start questioning what was happening?”

“I should have known sooner.” Magnus said.

“Coppen,” Scoutijn sighed. “Perhaps you could have known sooner. Does it make it better to hear that said?”

Magnus looked away. “No.”

“What did not happen is not of consequence when held up to what did happen.” Scoutijn said. “Perhaps, if you had looked upon your father with suspicion, then yes. You may have been able to find out sooner. But perhaps not. Asmodeus is the King of Edom, and he did not come by that title lightly.”

“It is not a failure to seek support and comfort in times of trial.” Foscharina added. “Wanting love does not make you weak.”

“Only foolish and gullible.” Magnus said, coldly.

Scoutijn and Foscharina looked at each other again and sighed.

“Coppen, when I said never let anyone take love your love from you, that included yourself.”

Magnus blinked at him.

“You banished your Soulmark. You went so far as to banish the Soulmark that was borne by your match, as well. How could that be anything other than you taking love away from yourself?”

“I was trying to keep them safe!” Magnus protested.

“You did that when you left Edom. There is no power that can break a spell like that, Magnus.” Foscharina said. “What you did there changed the very reality of the realm.”

Magnus looked at her. “How can you be sure?”

“There are some things that can be felt everywhere.” Scoutijn said. “Rewriting the reality of an entire demonic realm is no small feat.”

“Three rules were enacted the day you left,” Foscharina said, “one is that Asmodeus may no longer take any action that would allow him to gather any benefit from the destruction of a soulbond. The second is that the only time he will ever be able to come into contact with you is if you would ever wish for it, and the third is that he may not leave Edom unless summoned.”

Magnus looked between the two of them. “What are you trying to say?”

They smiled at him. “Let yourself love. I swear to you no harm will come from it.”

Magnus paused then. “I..I have,” he could feel himself starting to smile, “I have let myself love.”

Scoutijn and Foscharina looked delighted. Foscharina finally released Magnus from her embrace so she could scoot around and look at him properly. “I want to know everything.”

“It must take a truly special person to make you smile like that.”

Magnus could feel himself blushing, but he didn’t fight his smile. He reached out so he could hold hands with both of his soulmates. “His name is Alexander,” Magnus began, “and he’s a Shadowhunter…”   

  
  
  


Magnus woke up slowly, feeling a dull pain thudding through the back of his head, like he had somehow hit his head on something. It didn’t feel quite like a concussion, but everything was fuzzy, so Magnus wasn’t ready to rule out injury. He let his eyes open, blinking to try and clear his vision.

He was on the ground, and there were bodies everywhere.  He frowned for a moment and then recollection rushed back. The spell! He groaned as he pushed himself up.

“You’re up.” Jace’s voice was rough in the quiet room.

Magnus reached up to rub the back of his skull. “I am. As are you, apparently.”

All around them, people were starting to shift and mumble as they woke from the trance of the spell.

Magnus glanced at Jace. It wasn’t quite his place to ask, but he needed to know if the spell helped or if they needed to keep looking for other avenues. “Did it work?”

“You could say that.” Jace scoffed, and raised his arm, shoving his sleeve down. His forearm was covered in the thick, black lines of a rune that Magnus had never seen before.

“What is that?”

“I am the Champion of the Angel, apparently.” Jace said.

Magnus frowned, trying to remember if the phrase sounded familiar, but his mind was still scrambled from the spell.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!?” Maia’s shout woke anyone who hadn’t already been released from the spell.

She was staring at her bare arm, where she was now sporting a rune. It was below her shoulder, taking up most of her bicep, and it was another one that Magnus couldn’t place.

“What the _fuck_ is this?” Maia spat, her eyes burning green. “I thought that this spell wouldn’t do anything to us!”

Clary scrambled forward. “We all have it.”

Maia recoiled. “What.”

Clary reached down and pulled the up the hem of her jeans, showing a matching rune taking up a patch of her calf. “Everyone who did the spell. We all have the rune.”

Maia glared at everyone. “No one said _anything_ about getting a participation trophy of an ugly tattoo. I don’t want it.”

Dot cut in, “do you remember your dream at all?”

Maia frowned, crossing her arms defensively. “Maybe. Why?”

“It’s a mark of alliance.” Dot said. “In my dream, he said that it would only show up if I wanted it.”

“Saying yes in a dream isn’t the same thing!” Maia snapped. She was about to say something else when Madzie walked up to her.

Madzie reached out and gently ran her fingers over the scars of the scratchmarks on Maia’s neck.

“We match.” Madzie said, pulling off her scarf and showing her gills.

Maia gaped.

Madzie put her arm straight out, showing where she had the same dark rune on her forearm, just under her wrist. “We match here too!” Madzie said, lining up her wrist to Maia’s shoulder.

Maia stared at Madzie for a moment before she softened and smiled. “I guess we do.”

“Nana says that I can trust matching people.” Madzie said, glancing up at Maia with a tentative smile.

Maia smiled back, “well, I think your Nana might’ve been talking about something else, but, I promise you can trust me anyway.”

Madzie grinned. “Good!”  With that, she skipped back across the room to sit between Cat and Magnus.

Maia glanced at Magnus. “We _will_ be talking about this later.”

“Of course,” Magnus nodded. “I do apologize. There wasn’t anything about side effects.” He lifted his hands, but saw no evidence of the rune. With a frown, he flicked his fingers, banishing his jacket back to his closet, and leaving him only in his sleeveless undershirt. He lifted his arms, still searching for the rune, but froze when he saw colour.

It started at his elbow, deep green and bright blue, angular shafts of colour that were wrapped around each other to create a mosaic. There were squares of gold and black and navy, and Magnus could feel his lungs freeze in his chest as panic washed through him.

Distantly, he was aware that his reaction was unwarranted. He had just come from a conversation with both of his previous Matches where they spoke in no small detail about Magnus’ love life. There had been a distinct emphasis on Magnus allowing himself his Soulmarks again.

Speaking about something was radically different than seeing it appear on his skin.

Magnus blinked at the Soulmark on his skin and then turned away. “Actually, Maia, if you care to stay, I can take it off right now.”

Maia started. “I’m sorry?”

“The rune. You said you don’t want it. I can take it off, right now, if that’s what you would like.”

Maia glanced from Magnus to her rune and then back. There was something off about the tone of his voice. He sounded detached in a way that she had never heard from him before.

“As for the rest of you, I think it would be best if you left. If you have any more questions, I can answer them tomorrow.”

Magnus stood, but the movement was lacking any hint of his usual grace.

Everyone collected themselves, Luke and Maryse standing close together, both marvelling over the look of runes on their skin, for the first time in so long. Madzie was smiling wide, standing between Catarina and Dot, who were both smiling back at her. Simon was standing next to Maia, holding her hand as they spoke softly to each other. Izzy and Clary had gathered around Jace. Alec was clearly torn between going to his parabatai, or standing with his boyfriend.

Max watched all of it with his clear, blue eyes.

 

“That spell was more draining than I had anticipated,” Magnus lied. “If you could all leave so I could sleep, it would be greatly appreciated.”

Alec frowned, but Magnus ignored his concern, instead turning to the empty space in the middle of the room and spinning his arms. A flick of his wrists, and a he’d pulled a portal into existence. “Thank you all for being here.” Magnus said. “Again, if you have any questions, you can call me tomorrow.” _Or never_ , he thought, but he kept that to himself.

No one seemed inclined to to leave, so Magnus closed his eyes and sent out a small wave of magic. It wasn’t anything big, simply a nudge. If people were thinking of home, they would be remembering the best parts of it: dreaming of soft beds and warm showers, instead of cold floors or unpaid bills. It was just a tiny push to get everyone out of his house.

If anyone truly had a desire to stay, it was easy to shake off or fight.

Luckily for Magnus, his guests started filing through the portal to the ir various destinations. When everyone else had left, it was only Magnus and Alec in the room, and Alec walked over, clearly staring at the Soulmark that was winding up Magnus’ arm.

“Are you alright?” Alec finally managed to pull his eyes away from Magnus’ Soulmark when he was near enough to touch. “You seem off.”

Magnus fought back another tide of rising panic. He couldn’t handle Alec, didn’t want that kind of earnest caring that Alec seemed to provide effortlessly.

Mechanically, Magnus leaned forward and pecked a kiss to Alec’s cheek. “I’m fine. Go be with Jace. He said that he had some new runes as well.”

“I won’t leave if you need me.” Alec said, seriously.

Usually, Magnus felt comforted by such declarations, filled with warmth and security.

Now, it only filled him with cold, leaden dread. “I’m _fine_ , Alexander.”

“You don’t look fine.” Alec insisted.

“Nothing some sleep won't fix.” Magnus said, waving a hand in the air flippantly.

“Are you sure?” Alec asked, looking skeptical.

Magnus barely managed to contain his urge to snap, and somehow managed to answer calmly. “I promise, Alexander. If you’re so worried, why don’t you come over for breakfast tomorrow morning? Go spend time with your parabatai,” Magnus said, “he looks like he needs it. I’m just going to sleep.”

Alec hesitated, then finally gave in. “You’ll call me if you need anything, right?”

Magnus nodded and reached up to pull at the cuff on the upper shell of his ear. He didn’t care what he needed to say. He needed everyone to be gone. He needed to  be by himself. He had to figure out what had happened that brought back his Soulmark, and he had to figure out how to undo it.

Some part of Magnus was aware that his actions didn’t make sense. He believed what he’d learned in his dreams, and he believed in the truth of the spell. When Scoutijn and Foscharina had told him about the three rules that he had imposed on Edom, there had been something about their words that had resonated within him. He _knew_ they were true.

Knowing something to be true and feeling it could be vastly different things. One short conversation with his Soulmates wasn’t enough for Magnus to be able to fight the centuries that he’d spent associating his Soulmark with death.

Magnus had to be able to find out what had changed and how to once again get rid of his Soulmark. To do that, he needed to get Alec out of the apartment.

“I’ll call if I need anything.” Magnus said, then he leaned forward and kissed Alec on the cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Alec gave him one last, long look, before nodding and walking to the portal. He turned before he stepped through. “I love you.”

Magnus nodded. “I love you too.”

Alec stepped through the portal.

Magnus let it close and finally found himself alone in his apartment. He took one thankful breath that everyone had left, and then he gave himself over to the fear that was crawling through his veins. He rushed to his library, unable to contemplate spending another moment with his Soulmark visible.

Magnus could feel his hands shaking as he traced the books on the shelves, searching frantically for his notes from the last time he’d banished his Soulmark.

It was the only thought keeping him functioning. He would find the book. He would cast the spell. He would be rid of his Soulmark. He would be safe. Whoever his match was, wherever they were, _they_ would be safe.

That was what mattered.


	9. After the Spell

**_~~~_ ** AFTER THE SPELL ~~~

  


Alec turned as soon as he stepped out of the portal, watching it snap shut behind him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than just Magnus being tired. He had been there several times when Magnus had been exhausted, but he had never been kicked out before.

The only time that Magnus ever truly sent him away was when he had done something wrong, or when Magnus was hurting and trying to hide it. Neither of those scenarios left Alec feeling good about leaving Magnus alone.

On the one had, he tried his best to always respect what Magnus said. He knew that they had different lives and responsibilities. Sometimes a person just needed space to think. But Alec had made this mistake before: backing off when really, he needed to be fighting.

All he could think of was the vibrant colour on Magnus’ arm. He’d only seen a patch of it, but it was painfully obvious that Magnus had a Soulmark. It was a Soulmark that he had apparently kept hidden, somehow, or kept undercover. Alec felt sick at the thought of it. Maybe Magnus had always had a Soulmark, only he’d kept it glamoured. It would make sense, for a glamour like that to fail after a spell to reveal truth.

Alec could feel self-loathing starting to crawl up his spine. He had fought for so long, and he had found Magnus. He had finally started to believe that it didn’t matter if he didn’t have a Soulmark - after all, Magnus didn’t have one, either. Alec couldn’t imagine loving anyone more than he loved Magnus. He couldn’t imagine any feeling greater or bigger, anything that was more all-encompassing.

It wasn’t that Magnus was everything - that was what made Alec so sure of how he felt. If something happened to Magnus… Alec knew that he would never, ever be the same, but also that he would keep living. Magnus was the catalyst, not the reaction.

Alec didn’t want to even think of what life would be like without Magnus. Especially not what life would be like if Magnus was still there, but with someone else. If Magnus found his Match… Alec stood there, flexing his hands into fists and then stretching his fingers out again. He wanted to believe that he would be a good person, that he had the capacity in him to step aside if there was someone better suited.  
He knew he wasn’t.

He didn’t have a Soulmark. It was his own fault, but he’d finally started to realize that maybe he could have happiness even without one. He had _finally_ started to believe that just maybe, he could have love, even outside of a Match. His teeth were grinding with how hard he was clenching his jaw, but he didn’t notice.

There was one thing that he knew: he wouldn’t give up Magnus without a fight.

If Magnus wanted him to leave… Magnus would have to send him away. Alec wasn’t about to make it easy. If Magnus found someone else and _truly_ wanted to pursue a relationship… Well. Alec would let him go.

A shiver of dread spread through his shoulders at the thought, freezing his lungs and burning behind his eyes. Magnus would have to send him away. If Magnus wanted someone else, fine, Alec would deal with it. But Alec was going to do everything possible to prove to Magnus it didn’t matter. They didn’t _need_ to be soulmates. What they had was enough.

The thought echoed through him, hollow and empty. He would make sure that what they had was enough. It _had_ to be enough. Alec was jerked out of his thoughts when a hand touched his shoulder. He looked up, eyes wide with surprise, and saw Jace.

Alec closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. “Jace.”

Maybe he truly wasn’t enough. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he had been right his entire life when he’d believed that he wasn’t meant to have a soulbond.

His heart hurt so much that it was a physical ache that spread through his entire abdomen, curling through him with frozen, spiderly thorns, constricting with every movement he made. and growing tighter by the second.

“Alec, I’m sorry.”

Alec shook his head. “It’s not your fault, Jace.”

“The angel - Raziel, he said, he said that it was still there, that nothing could break the bond.”

“Jace, it’s okay.” Alec said, trying to keep his voice steady.

It hadn’t quite been a surprise, when Magnus had cast the spell and Alec had found himself on the edges of Lake Lyn. Raziel had been there, resplendent and shrouded in golden light. His voice had been more of a feeling than a sound, resonating through Alec’s bones like the words weren’t so much being spoken as existence was being moved so they had already been said. Even now, the recollection of it felt more like a dream than a true experience. Except for the part where every word that the angel had spoken had carved itself into marrow of Alec’s very existence.

The words had made sense, in the way that everything in Alec’s life made sense. His place was to keep trying. He wouldn’t ever be enough. He wasn’t allowed to have what he wanted, but he would take the version available to him, and he would do the best that he could with it.

The parabatai bond was scar tissue. It was meant to bind two Shadowhunters until they were parted by death. Their bond had simply been stretched too far, too many times. Jace had died, truly been dead. There was nothing left to come back from.

The echo of what they once had was all they would ever have. Souls bound through parabatai could never truly be separated, but once they had been torn asunder, they also couldn’t be sewn back together.

Alec had failed his match, lost his Soulmark. That night, Alec had failed Jace and now they would never be able to repair their bond to the state that it had been in.

They still knew each other. There were still echoes. It was stronger in battle. When they were sparring, Alec _almost_ felt the familiar closeness that he had lived with for the past decade. There were still those moments when they didn’t need to speak, their heartbeats in synch and all they needed to do was _move_ to be perfectly in tune with each other.

The mornings, though, when Alec woke up and had nothing but silence in his life: those were his to keep forevermore. The warm core that had been Jace wasn’t there anymore. It was a battery that was nearly dead. It was still there, still present, but the power that came from it was weak: flickering and failing, only to be used when needed.

“Alec, you’re my brother. Nothing will ever change that.” Jace’s voice was pleading. His eyes flickered across Alec’s face like he was looking for something.

“I’m tired, Jace.” Alec stared back. “I just need to sleep.”

Jace frowned. “Alec, I need to talk to you first.”

Of course he did. Alec pursed his lips and rolled his eyes. “I’ll meet you in my office in ten minutes.”

“It’s about Clary, too.” Jace said.

“Bring her along then.” Alec could feel the bitterness rising in his throat. “Actually, bring everyone. If we’re going to have a chat, we might as well debrief with everyone who’s still here.”

“I think that’s just Clary and Izzy.”

Alec waved a hand. “Then bring them.” He turned and walked away. Five minutes. He just needed five minutes, and then he could deal with this again. He had spent his entire life locking down the things that didn’t matter so he could deal with the things that did. This was no different.

It didn’t matter if once and for all, he had been given the message that he was meant to be alone. The pain of it sliced through his chest, but it was nothing that Alec hadn’t lived through before.

He had done it his entire life, this was no different. He would make his own way. He always had, and he made it work. His life was _good_ . He had achieved every goal he’d ever set for himself, and some that he had never even dared to hope for. He was the head of the Institute. Valentine was dead. Jace was safe. Magnus - Alec didn’t believe that Magnus was alright, but they would work on it. Their relationship had been through trying times, but they were making it work. They would _keep_ making it work. Alec wouldn’t let anything else happen.

He took a deep breath and repeated the words that he had lived with since he was fifteen: He was fine. He didn’t have Soulmark, and he wouldn’t let that stop him.

  
  
  


Everyone was waiting in his office when Alec finally got there. He ignored them, walking straight to his desk and sitting in his chair. He leaned back and looked at the three people in the room.

“No Max?”

Isabelle shook her head. “He’s still recovering. The Silent Brothers said it would be best for him to sleep.” There were still the lingering remnants of guilt in her voice, but she met Alec’s gaze with clear eyes.

Alec nodded. “Has anyone talked to Mom?”

“No.” Izzy said.

Alec nodded. “She had runes when we left. We need to follow up on that.” He glanced up to Jace. “You’re going to have to be the one to explain that to the Inquisitor. Mom’s not allowed runes on punishment of death. We will not be allowing that to happen, so we need to get ahead of this before anyone else reports her to the Clave.”

Jace went pale and his mouth dropped open, like he hadn’t thought about the repercussions of a banished Shadowhunter being caught wearing runes. “Right.” Jace said, nodding woodenly.

Alec ran a hand through his hair, then turned to the tablet on his desk. He considered it for a moment and then reached for a pad of paper instead. He needed to make sure he didn’t miss anything, but these were the kinds of conversations that were best had with evidence that was fully disposable.

He wrote down the names of everyone who had been involved in the spell, leaving room beneath each person for him to write notes. “Alright. Speaking to the Clave about Mom needs to happen first, but we shouldn’t wake the Inquisitor for it. Can you have a report ready first thing tomorrow morning?” He glanced up at Jace.

"Alec-” Jace started.

“I can do it.” Clary said, stepping forward.

Alec stared at her for a long moment. He knew better than to tell her she couldn’t do something once she’d made up her mind. With the pen in his hand, he gestured between Clary and Jace. “You do it together. Tomorrow morning, as soon as the Inquisitor is up.”

Clary nodded, getting that fierce, determined look in her eyes. It made Alec tired just to see it. He had to admit that Clary was smart. She wasn’t informed enough to make good decisions. She was tenacious and loyal, and she could be kind when she wanted to be.

If she decided that someone was standing in her way, though, all of the rules changed. Alec had learned that it was in everyone’s best interests to make sure that he was never that person she thought was blocking whatever path she had decided was best.

“Clary, that rune that everyone had, even the Downworlders,” Alec said, looking at her. “You said it was a rune of Alliance. Do you know anything else about it?”

Clary frowned. “It felt like...a connection?” She turned to Izzy, who had the rune prominently on her forearm. Taking Isabelle’s arm, Clary gently traced the lines of the rune with her fingertips. “It’s to forge a connection.” Her words were distant, almost like she was speaking from some kind of trance. “It’s a bridge for power. This rune is safe for Downworlders to wear. It’s to allow them our power, and for us to wield theirs.”

Alec squinted at her. “So what - anyone with this rune could have access to any powers at any time??”

“It needs to be a connection.” Clary said, looking up from Isabelle’s arm.“You need to… sync it? With the other person. You both need to put it on each other. That will start the connection.”

Alec frowned. “Is it permanent?”

Clary looked at the rune again. “The rune is, but the connection isn’t. It needs to be refreshed?”

“That also needs to go in the report to the Clave,” Alec sighed. “New plan: I’m getting us all a portal to Idris first thing. I think this conversation needs to happen in person.” He turned to Isabelle. “You have more than just the Alliance rune.”

Isabelle nodded, looking at the new runes that curled around her arms and legs. “Do you know what they are?”

“Adamas,” Izzy said, running her finger over one of them, with a smile of awed joy, “they’re for shaping Adamas.”

Alec stared at her for a moment. “Like the Iron Sisters?”

Isabelle turned to him, smiling wide and nodding. “The Angel gave them to me!”

Alec could feel sweet pressure in his chest. Even if everything else about the spell had gone wrong, at least this had come from it. He couldn’t help but smile back at his sister. “Izzy, that - that’s incredible!”

“I can’t believe it.” She said honestly, but she never stopped smiling.

Alec grinned back at her, until the consequences of it sunk in. He did his best to force his smile to stay. He wasn’t sure how well it worked, but it was the least he could do. “You’ll need to come with us tomorrow as well.”

    Isabelle’s smile dimmed and Alec felt like he had tarnished the brightest shine with sludge. He had turned the sweetest fruit to rot, and it was everything he could do to keep himself going. This was his job now. He needed to be able to protect his people, and in theory that meant making sure everyone was prepared to fight whatever demonic threats cropped up. Reality proved to be much more political maneuvering and trying to keep everyone out of the firing line from the Clave.

This was what he had wanted, what he’d worked his entire life for.

“Does anyone else have new runes they’d like to share?” Alec asked, trying to sound less exhausted then he was feeling. He paused. “Wait, Jace, you said something - the Angel’s Champion?”

Jace nodded. “The Champion of the Angel.”

“What exactly does that mean?” Alec asked.

Jace frowned then glanced around the room. “I don’t know.”

Alec took a deep breath. “Alright, then we’ll need to start figuring that out. Does it have anything to do with you not needing a stele?”

Jace nodded. “There’s more to it though.”

"Do you know how it works?”

Jace shook his head. “No, it wasn’t - It was a _feeling_ more than anything? I’m not sure.”

Alec stared at him. “I’m taking you off field duty until you know more.”

“What? Alec, no-”

Alec raised his hand, cutting Jace off. “You need to know what you can do.” Alec steeled himself for his next words. “Now that we know that our parabatai bond isn’t going to change, I’m giving you two weeks. You have new powers, and things won’t be the same.” He paused. “For both of us. We’re going to need to train together and apart until we get used to this.”

Jace looked gutted, but he nodded silently.

Alec tilted his head, giving Jace an opening to speak if he wanted it, but Jace just looked away. Alec felt another fierce stab of loss clutch at his chest, but he shook it off. He turned to look at his list.

“I’ll call Luke tomorrow, see if I can set up a meeting with him and Maia.” He glanced up. “Clary, I want you there. As the expert with this rune, I think it would be best for you to help explain what it is and what it can do.”

Clary nodded. “Of course.”

Alec frowned, then glanced up at her. “Can you call Simon as well? It might be best if we only have to have this conversation once. We’ll get everyone in one place.”

“Got it.” Clary said.

Alec would call Catarina last. He would go with Clary, and they could learn more about the rune and how it worked before he had to answer the questions of a parent worried for their child. If Magnus was feeling up to it, he wanted to make a housecall for Dot. She had been in poor health the night of the spell, and the last thing that Alec wanted to do was put more stress on her already taxed system.

He glanced up. “Does anyone else have any burning topics that need to be discussed?” The bite was clear in his voice, but Alec couldn’t even begin to put into words how much he wanted the night to be over.

He wanted to be home. He wanted to be lying next to Magnus in bed, close enough to feel the warmth of his skin and basking in the simple fact that they were together. He wanted to have a functioning parabatai bond that was more than a sputtering ember where there used to be a roaring flame. He wanted to sleep and wake up late, knowing that everyone he loved was safe.

Clary raised her hand. “I have something.”

Once again, Alec reminded himself that what he wanted didn’t matter.

“Right.” Alec said. “What is it?”

Clary shrugged her jacket off. The entirety of her left shoulder blade was covered in a huge, complicated rune. Alec squinted at it.

“That looks similar to what Jace has.”

Clary turned back around to face him. “Jace is the Champion. I’m the Voice.”

"The Voice of the Angel.” Alec said, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s why I can make the runes.” She explained. “I can create new runes that we need. The world has changed, and I can create runes for everyone to use that work better for the way that we fight now.”

Alec nodded. It was a decent enough explanation of what she did, and he had to admit that being able to teach her runes to every Shadowhunter would be revolutionary. “Do you know these runes now, or do you have to ask for them? Do they come to you when you need them? How does that work?”

Clary paused for a moment, trying to put it into words. “I think I _could_ know them, if I tried.”

“Okay. I’ll need you to try for me, and write down what you think of, but that can wait at least a little while.” He looked to Isabelle. “I’ll also need to talk to Max when he wakes up.”

She nodded. “I’ll make sure he knows.”

“Now I really do want all of you to get out of my office.” Alec said, dryly.

He was met with a chorus of scoffs and rolling eyes, but no one protested. Alec even managed to smile at everyone as they left.

He was able to hold on to his humour until the door closed, taking any hope of levity with it.

Sleep would be the best choice. He knew that. He also knew that he would have no hope of getting to sleep if he stayed at the Institute that night. There was simply too much that had happened. Everything that he had come to rely on was suddenly in flux, and even trying to rest would be an exercise in futility.

As much as he wanted to be with Magnus for his own comfort, he also wanted to make sure that Magnus was okay. The past few weeks had been hard on everyone, but Alec felt like things had been particularly unfair to his boyfriend. He knew that he had been his own part of making things worse, but he was determined to do better.

He pulled his phone out and sent a text to Magnus.  


**Sent: 2:22 A.M.**

_Are you up?_

 

Alec had barely sent the text when his phone buzzed with a reply.

 

**From: Magnus - 2:22 A.M.**

_yes_

 

Alec frowned at the non-committal answer. He chewed on his lip for a moment before he typed in his response. He was committed. He was going to do better. He was going to communicate.

 

**Sent: 2:22 A.M.**

_Can I come over?_

 

It was the same response time of less than a second, with the exact same response.

 

**From: Magnus - 2:22 A.M.**

_yes_  


Alec stared. He didn’t want to crowd his boyfriend if Magnus needed space. Three letters didn’t help Alec know how Magnus was actually feeling.

 

**Sent: 2:23 A.M.**

_I can stay here if you’d prefer._

 

Three dots appeared at the bottom of the screen, signifying Magnus was typing a response. Alec watched his screen, trying to guess what his boyfriend was actually going to say. The dots disappeared and the screen cleared for a few moments, and then they came back.

Whatever Magnus had to say apparently took more than a few drafts. Alec could feel his dread building the longer he waited. He was nearly sick with it when his phone finally buzzed with an actual reply.

 

**From: Magnus - 2:26 A.M.**

_I can’t sleep without you._

 

Alec read the response, and any doubts he’d had were washed away.

 

**Sent: 2:26 A.M.**

_I’m on my way._

 

Alec didn’t bother taking anything with him. He would have to be back stupidly early in the morning in order to get everyone to Idris on time, but it didn’t matter. He could deal with the morning when it came. Magnus was more important.

He opened up the door to the Institute to be met with steady, endless sheet of rain. He took a moment to curse his luck and wish he was wearing his jacket. He wasn’t about to go back for it though. He knew that if he stepped foot back into the Institute, he would get caught by someone and asked to look at some project and it would be another hour before he managed to get out. Resigning himself to the rain, he traced his speed rune and then took off into the night.

Even at his top speed, it still took him twenty minutes to make it to Magnus’ loft in Brooklyn. The path had practically become second-nature. He didn’t need to think as he cut through back alleys and raced down main streets, dodging mundanes who were strolling, unaware. The cold from the rain had long since seeped in past his collar and soaked into his shirt, but Alec ignored it. He was so close to Magnus - to the apartment that felt more like home than anywhere else that Alec had ever been.

It was nothing to slip through the door of the building and head to the stairs. Alec slowed once he hit the hallways, stopping outside of Magnus’ door. He knocked on the door as he stood there, panting to catch his breath.

Magnus opened the door with a confused look on his face. “Alexander?”

Alec nodded, too out of breath to respond properly. “Yeah.” He finally managed, bending over at the waist to breathe.

Magnus simply stood there, watching. “You know you don’t need to knock.”

Alec was still breathing hard, but had mostly recovered. “I know, I just-” He took another deep breath and then straightened. He met Magnus’ unglamoured eyes, and he was lost.

Magnus was standing in the doorway, shirtless, dressed only in the silk sleep pants that were a deep maroon dappled with black. His hair was down, his make-up was off, but all Alec could see was the colours of the Soulmark that took up the majority of Magnus’ left side. It truly was a stunning mark - deep, saturated colours hinging on straight lines, crossing over each other like stained glass. It wrapped entirely around Magnus’ arm, spread over his shoulder and down his chest. It flared out to barely skim his right pectoral and tessellated down to follow the curving line of his ribcage. If he stood with his arm out, it would almost look like a spiral, made out of hard edges and mosaic angles. It was variations of tone, more shades of blue and green than Alec could name, separated by black lines, shot through with silver and gold.

It was breathtaking, and Alec almost wanted to cry at the sight of it. Magnus’ Soulmark was beautiful - _so beautiful_ \- and Alec could only feel his resolve strengthen as he looked at it.

“Alexander.” Magnus’ tone was sharp, and Alec blinked before realizing that Magnus had probably been trying to get his attention for a while.

Alec straightened his shoulders and pushed his wet hair out of his face. “I don’t care!” He knew his voice was too loud for the hallway, but that didn’t matter.

“I beg your pardon?” Magnus said sharply, crossing his arms defensively.

Alec took a step forward. “I don’t have a Soulmark, and I don’t care.”

The look on Magnus’ face softened. “Alexander, I-”

“I love you, and I don’t care if were aren’t a Match, because I will never, ever give you up.”

Magnus sighed and gave a small, painful smile. “Why don’t you come in for this conversation, my love.” He stepped back and swept his hand out, gesturing Alec in.

Alec followed. His wet shoes made squelching noises as he stepped in, and he could feel the water that had accumulated in his boots, but it was easy to ignore. He stepped in and turned as Magnus shut the door behind them with a flick of the wrist.

“Alexander, do you care to tell me what you’re talking about?” Magnus asked.

Alec had to take a few deep breaths. He didn’t notice that he’d slid into parade rest, his feet wide and his hands locked behind his back. He forced himself to meet Magnus’ eyes. “I don’t have a Soulmark.”

“You don’t have to talk about it-”

“No,” Alec cut him off. “You don’t understand. That doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I don’t have a Soulmark, I’m not your Match, and I don’t care. I love you, and I won’t leave unless you make me.”

Magnus closed his eyes unable to face Alec’s earnest, ardent declarations of love and loyalty.

“I think that what we have is worth fighting for.” Alec said, and then he stepped forward, bringing his hands up to rest on Magnus’s shoulders. “There is nothing in this world that could make me leave you, except for you telling me to go.”

Magnus could feel his mouth drop open with the quiet steadiness of Alec’s confession.

Alec started to blink, his eyes bright like he was fighting back tears. He stepped in close, pressing his forehead to Magnus. “Please don’t tell me to go.”

Magnus gasped at that, reaching up to take Alec’s face in his palms, tipping his head down and bringing their lips together in a kiss. Magnus pressed in close, like if they worked hard enough

at breathing each other in, they wouldn’t need air anymore. Magnus didn’t want air - not if he could live off of the painfully bright spark of love that was cradled so delicately between them. He kissed Alec until he had nothing left in his lungs. He finally pulled away slowly, wanting to stay close.

“I would never, ever send you away, Alexander.” His voice was a whisper in the quiet of the loft. “I love you, and no Soulmark could ever change that.”

Alec let out a breath that almost bordered on a sob, but then he just pulled Magnus in close, clutching at him desperately. “I love you so much, Magnus.”

“Oh, Alexander,” Magnus said softly, ignoring the discomfort of Alec’s cold, wet clothes pressed against his bare skin. “I love you too.”

They stayed there, standing in the hallway holding each other for countless long minutes. Magnus refused to move until Alec let go, and Alec was in no hurry to untangle their limbs from the comfort of each other.. At long last, though, Magnus could feel the intensity of their embrace begin to abate. Magnus stepped back and looked Alec straight in the eye, reaching up to brush his wet hair back.

“I don’t care about Soulmarks, Alec. I removed mine before, and I’m going to banish this one in the morning.”

A look of horror dawned on Alec’s face, and he flinched back at the words. “You what?”

Magnus blinked at him. “I’m going to take my Soulmark off in the morning.”

Alec stared at him, uncomprehending. “You- _why?_ Why would anyone do that?”

“I do it to keep my soulmates safe.” Magnus snapped, “it’s hardly something I do for fun.”

“You - you _remove_ your Soulmark? How is that even possible?”

“I know this might come as a surprise to you, Alexander, but I do it with _magic_.”  Magnus bit out, turning on his toe and striding over to his drink cart. He snapped his fingers and an oversized martini glass appeared in his hand.

Alec’s mind was spinning. There were too many directions for him to even begin trying to untangle his thoughts.

Magnus had a Soulmark, and he didn’t want it. Magnus _banished_ his Soulmark.

Alec could feel the longing curling in his lungs, the countless days he had spent trying to overcome his desolate certainty that he would be alone for his entire life because he didn’t have a match. Every day of his life since he had been fifteen had been shaped by the absence of his mark. Magnus had the one thing Alec had longed for more than anything else, and was going to _erase_ it.

“You do it to keep your soulmates safe? From what?”

Magnus slowly set down his martini shaker and turned to Alec with ice in his eyes and a sneer on his face. “I have to do it to keep them alive.” He dropped the empty martini glass onto the carpet and stalked forward. “My father has killed every match I was ever lucky enough to meet, Alexander.”

“What?” The word was barely a whisper as it left Alec’s mouth.

“There is _power_ in a soulbond,” Magnus said, acid dripping from his tone, “and Asmodeus somehow figured out how to capture the power of a broken bond and transfer it to himself.”

“Magnus…” Alec’s eyes were wide. “Magnus, I am so sorry.”

“Why do you even care?” Magnus shot back, “you don’t even have a Mark.”

Alec flinched back at the reminder. It was his own fault, but having his failure flung back in his face stung. He gripped his palm tight between the fingers of his other hand, working his hands like it would somehow help bleed out the shame and pain and guilt that were coursing through him.

He didn’t know what to say. The part of him that had lived so long in loneliness, that had known yearning with every heartbeat, that much of him was screaming for him to admit that he would do anything, give _anything_ to have his Mark back. He would make _any_ sacrifice if it meant that he would have a chance to meet his match.

But… in front of him was Magnus. Alec didn’t _want_ a match. He wanted the man who was standing in front of him. Magnus was hurting and ferocious, and Alec _loved_ him. He didn’t have a Soulmark, but he knew that there could never be anyone in his life that would come close. Most people could have several soulmates. Their marks could shift and change with time. Alec had only ever had one mark. It had vanished due to his own inadequacy. Now, he had Magnus, and even if Alec had a Soulmark, he couldn't imagine fitting with anyone the way that he fit with Magnus.

Magnus scoffed and snapped his fingers. The Martini glass on the floor disappeared entirely and a rocks glass appeared in Magnus’ hand, filled with several fingers of amber liquid. “I watched him, Alexander. I was there, holding them as they died in my arms.” He took a long drink from his glass and then looked at it, watching as the alcohol swirled in the glass. He glanced up at Alec, who was still standing in the hallway, frozen and dripping wet.

“Apparently I banished him for it.” Magnus said, his voice empty of emotion. “When I finally opened my eyes enough to see what he was doing, I cursed him to never be able to leave Edom.” He laughed, and it was a chilling, bitter sound.

“My soulmate is dead because of me.” Alec said, meeting Magnus’ eyes stoically. “I had a mark, when I was a kid.”

Magnus froze. “What?”

Alec closed his eyes slowly, gathering himself to tell the story he hadn’t spoken of in over a decade. “There was - there was a fire. Jace and I were there, it was an unsanctioned mission. We were too young, we hadn’t been cleared for field duty. We snuck out and found a hatching nest of Xaphan demons. We killed them all, and I thought that we’d gotten everyone out, but I think we must have missed someone, I don’t know.” He blinked and looked up at Magnus. “I - I got trapped in the fire. Jace pulled me out. I don’t remember what happened, but when I woke up my mark was gone.”

“Alexander, I had no idea.”

Alec shook his head and bit his lip. “We never talked about it.”

Magnus looked at him. “Maybe we should have.”

Alec swallowed. “We are now.”

Magnus lifted his glass to his mouth like he was about to drink, but he paused before it actually reached his lips. He looked at Alec, still standing in the entryway, soaking wet and starting to shiver. Setting his glass down was the easiest thing to do. Once his hands were free, Magnus crossed the room to his boyfriend.

“We are talking about this now, but maybe we should pick it back up in the morning.”

“I have to be in Idris early.” Alec said, but the regret was clear in his tone.

Magnus raised an eyebrow. “The Clave waits for no one?”

Alec shook his head ruefully. “More like damage control needs to be started as quickly as possible.”

“Ah,” Magnus said, nodding his head in understanding. “Does that mean you won’t be able to stay for breakfast?”

Alec looked at Magnus, the slit pupils of his golden eyes, and the decision suddenly seemed like the simplest choice he’d ever made. “Of course I can stay for breakfast.”

Magnus smiled and leaned forward, kissing Alec gently. “Then why don’t we get you out of these wet clothes and get some sleep.”

Alec reached out and pulled Magnus in for another kiss. It didn’t matter that he was so cold he could feel himself shaking from it. Magnus was warm beneath his hands, and warmer where their mouths met. It was nothing to fall into the rhythm of it, lips opening to the sweet press of tongue.

 _This_ was what Alec wanted. Everything seemed so easy when they could simply connect with each other. They would work through whatever struggles could possibly arise. As long as they had each other, they would make it through anything that life could throw at them. Alec was sure of it.

Magnus finally pulled away, stepping back but taking Alec’s hands. “Come on, darling. We can have this conversation properly in the morning.”

Alec stepped forward to kiss Magnus one last time, before following him to the bedroom, never letting go of his hands.

  
  


Magnus spun once they’d entered the bedroom, and he gave Alec a skeptical once-over. “You didn’t wear a jacket. I suppose it’s far too much to think you’ve brought anything with you.”

“Getting here seemed more important.” Alec grinned, looking somehow both sheepish and unapologetic.

Magnus couldn’t help it. He stepped back into Alec’s space, standing close. Their lips were nearly touching when Magnus spoke again, “you need to take better care of yourself, Alexander.”

Alec ducked forward playfully, pressing the lightest hint of a kiss to Magnus’ skin before leaning back. “Maybe I like it when you take care of me.”

“Is that so?” Magnus asked, raising an eyebrow. “I suppose I shouldn’t disappoint, then.” He never moved back, staying pressed to Alec, chest to chest, but he reached out with a hand, spinning his fingers and sending a flair of warm air over both of them, leaving Alec dried and warm in the wake of it.

Alec grinned, clearly delighted. “You’re amazing.” The wonder in his voice was palpable, and Magnus preened at it.

“I think you’ll find that’s not all I can do.” Another flick of his wrist dimmed the lights, and then a snap of his fingers left Alec dressed in the loose boxers that he preferred for sleeping.

“I love you.” Alec said, leaning down to kiss Magnus again. Magnus leaned into it, letting his eyes close and simply revelling in the touch.

They broke apart, and Magnus took his time letting his eyes open again. “I love you too, Alexander.” He opened his eyes and smiled.

Alec grinned back, and that was when Magnus saw it.

 

It was the smallest splash of colour at Alec’s collarbone, wrapping around his shoulder. Magnus could only assume the Soulmark continued on his back, before it flared out again, a thick, wide, sweep of colour across Alec’s stomach. It ended in a curl that seemed to weave through the black lines of the parabatai rune.

Magnus jerked back, staring.

“Magnus? Is something wrong?” Alec’s voice was tight with concern.

“What did your Soulmark look like?” Magnus asked.

Alec frowned. “What?” Then he looked down at himself and froze. He glanced up at Magnus, fear and hope warring in his eyes. “Magnus?”

“I didn’t do anything.” Magnus said, shaking his head.

Alec couldn’t even process it, carefully letting his fingers drift up to trace the once-familiar lines that were covering his skin. He kept his fingers in the air, as if touching his skin would somehow make the mark disappear again. He looked up to Magnus. “I don’t understand. How-?”

Understanding suddenly dawned on Magnus. “Alexander, you said you lost your mark in a fire?”

Alec nodded, but turned back to staring at his mark, slowly letting his fingers press into the colour, shuddering at the look of it. The mark that he’d been missing for so long, somehow back. The colour that he’d been dreaming of seeing again had somehow been returned to him.

“You said it was when you were young. How long ago would you say?”

Alec was listening, but he couldn’t stop staring at his Soulmark. He’d forgotten just how rich the colour was, how vibrant it looked against the pale tone of his unmarked skin. “I was fifteen when I lost it.” Maybe it wasn’t that he’d forgotten. Maybe his mark had changed in all the years that he hadn’t seen it. He remembered more purple, but now it seemed to be blue and red and orange. He grinned at the golden tones of it. The colour reminded him of Magnus’ real eyes.

Magnus winced. “It was a fire in Hudson Heights, wasn’t it.” He remembered the fire. It had happened the night he had cast the spell, banishing marks from his potential matches. He’d missed a slew of calls from the Institute. He’d gotten called in front of the Clave to justify his position, if he was ‘unreliable in times of great need or emergency.’ He remembered hearing that a young boy had been burned, but had managed to get to the Silent Brothers in time to get a projection for full recovery.

Alec glanced up. “Yeah, it was. Why? Magus, what is it?”

Slowly, Magnus stepped forward, reaching out hesitantly to run his fingers along Alec’s mark. At his touch, the colour swirled to life, shifting into brilliant jewel tones, marbling with metallic shimmers, and twisting into the deep, royal colours that had already been there.

Alec stared at Magnus, speechless.

“Alexander, I am so sorry.”

“Magnus,” Alec’s eyes lit up with unadulterated joy, “Magnus, what would you ever be sorry for? This is - This is _everything_!”

Magnus stepped back and reached for his ear, feeling unsettled when he realized he’d already taken off his ear cuff for the night. “Alexander, you never lost your Soulmark.”

“What are you talking about?” Alec squinted at Magnus in confusion.

“It was a decade after the Circle fell.” Magnus started slowly, glancing away, not wanting to see the look on Alec’s face  when he realized that Magnus was the one who had taken his Soulmark. “We didn’t know what was happening, but Valentine was dead. The soulmates of warlocks started going missing.” He looked back to Alec. “I was _terrified_ ,” he tried to explain, “the only one I’d ever heard of being capable of such things was my father.”

“Magnus, I don’t  understand.”

“Alexander. You didn’t lose your Soulmark. I took it from you.”

“Magnus, what are you talking about?” Alec stepped forward, putting his hand on Magnus’ neck.

Magnus felt sick. It had never occurred to him that he would meet a Soulmate. He thought that banishing the mark would simply mean they moved on. “I knew someone was killing people who matched with warlocks.” He reached up and gripped Alec’s wrist with his own hand. “I thought the only way to save your life was to get rid of your Soulmark.”

Alec stared into Magnus’ eyes. He had spent so long thinking that losing his Soulmark had been a mark of his own personal failure. To find out that it was all a misunderstanding was… more than he could deal with at the moment. At some point, he knew they would need to return to the conversation, but it could wait. Alec knew there was only one fact that mattered, and anything else, they could deal with later. “Magnus, I don’t care.”

“Alexander-”

“Magnus, _you’re my soulmate_.”

Magnus paused and stared at Alec, at the shining, unbridled elation in his eyes. Slowly, Magnus let himself smile. He could hear the voices of Scoutijn and Foscharina, repeating to him that he was safe, that Asmodeus was trapped in Edom and would never be able to interfere with his life again.

“The spell,” Magnus began, “I saw my other soulmates, the ones I couldn’t save.” He rubbed his thumb along Alec’s wrist, “the truth that they told me was that my father couldn’t hurt me anymore. That he can’t ever hurt me or my soulmates ever again.”

“Yeah?” Alec asked, and licked his lips.

Magnus nodded. He was still afraid - still _terrified_ \- but maybe it was time to face that fear. If love was his power, maybe it was time for Magnus to try again.

“Magnus, I don’t care what you do. If you want to get rid of our marks again, it doesn’t matter to me. The only thing that matters to me is being with you.”

“I love you, Alexander.” It was the only thing that Magnus could say. It was clear that Alec had struggled for years over the loss of his Soulmark, and the fact that he would give it up with barely a moment’s thought was more than enough proof for Magnus to know that he was making the right decision.

After centuries of living in fear, it was time for Magnus Bane to try something new.

“I want to keep them.” Magnus said.

“Magnus-”

Magnus reached out with his free hand and let his fingertips drift along the colours of Alec’s mark. The mark itself was done shifting, but Magnus could still feel the magic of it, the connection. He looked up at Alec “I want this.”

Alec grinned, breathless. “I want you.”

“You have me.” Magnus said.

Never breaking eye contact, Alec pulled his hand away from Magnus' neck and moved to trace the mosaic lines of Magnus’ Soulmark. The colours shimmered beneath his touch, becoming lighter and more vibrant, like sun was shining through stained glass. They both watched in awe as Magnus’ mark reacted to being touched by Alec for the first time. Alec flattened his hand and ran his palm over Magnus’ chest, watching the colour of the mark flare.

“I never could have imagined someone I love as much as you.” Alec said softly.

“I never thought I would have a match again,” Magnus admitted, “but it’s you.” He brought his hand down to rest over Alec’s, looking at their hands over his mark. Looking up, he caught Alec’s gaze. “If this mark is for you, I want it.”

Alec could barely stop smiling enough to kiss Magnus properly, but it was alright. They didn’t need words for the rest of the night anyway.

 

   

In the morning, they would have to deal with things. Alec would have to play politics with the Clave, and Magnus needed to figure out how having runes would affect the Downworld. It could all wait. What mattered was that they had found each other. Even without Soulmarks to guide them, they had managed to find love. They both knew that they were never, ever going to let it go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we have it, friends! It's four days late, but it's also the longest thing I've ever written *by far*.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you've enjoyed it!  
> There are plans for an epilogue-y sequel in the works, so keep an eye out for that as well!
> 
>  
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts, so please feel free to drop me a comment or hit me up on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Taupefox_59), [tumblr](http://taupefox59.tumblr.com/) and[ Pillowfort. ](https://pillowfort.io/Taupefox59)
> 
> #SaveShadowhunters

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi! I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Taupefox_59), [tumblr](http://taupefox59.tumblr.com/) and[ Pillowfort. ](https://pillowfort.io/Taupefox59)
> 
> #SaveShadowhunters

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[fanmix] MatchMark](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15660396) by [jillyfae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jillyfae/pseuds/jillyfae)




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